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IDEAS and REALITIES. 






IDEAS 



AND 



REALITIES; 



SJ 



THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 



By WILLIAM DANBY, Esq. 



OF SWINTON PARK, YORKSHIRE. 



EXETER : 

PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, BY E. WOOLMER, GAZETTE-OFFICE; 
AND SOLD BY MESSRS. RIVINGTON, WATERLOO* PLACE, LON- 
DOX ; MESSRS. TODD, YORK ; C. UPHA3I, EXETER ', AND ALL 
01 HER BOOKSELLERS. 



1827. 



A DC <* X 



PREFACE, 



Induced, as I hope, though perhaps not 
solely, by the desire of doing some good, I 
venture another publication into the world, 
without prefixing any dedication to it, because 
if its own merits are sufficient to recom- 
mend it, any other assistance will be super- 
fluous; if they are not, it will be unavailing. 
Perhaps the favorable mention that has been 
made of my former work, particularly in the 
Monthly Review, and Gentleman's Magazine, 
might be some inducement to follow the exam- 
ple of Swift, in dedicating this to Prince Pos- 
terity, who however will judge for himself, with- 
out being courted by a dedication, as also will 
the reigning Prince, the Opinion of the present 



ii PREFACE. 

time, which I will not shew my distrust of, 
by an appeal to any other; and if the 
" aetas praesens" is not capable or willing to do 
justice, there is still less to be expected from 
a "progenies vitiosior," which however I hope 
will not follow it. My confidence in either 
must depend on my perhaps too partial opi- 
nion of my own performance. 

As to the rest, the reader will find but little 
insertion from (though some occasional allu- 
sions to) my former work, and none from the 
" Remarks on Lacon," who however I think 
affords what is worthy of remark, for which I 
must refer those who agree with me, and who 
think it worth the trouble of a search, to what 
1 have written before ; if they peruse it, they 
will perhaps find that the probably hastily 
formed opinion of the Editor of the Gentleman's 
Magazine, that my remarks on Lacon were 
" trite and puerile," was not altogether just ; 
that he has not fairly estimated the " ridendo 
dicere" what he pleases. 



PREFACE. Ml 

My present work 1 must leave to its fate, sa- 
tisfied, whatever that may be, and however 
trifling its claims to attention, that there is no- 
thing in it which I wish to recal, "Nihil, 
quod indictnm volo." Whether I have been 
too partial to myself in the indulgence of this 
feeling, I must leave to be judged of by the 
reader, whose censure I had better submit to 
(as indeed 1 must) than supplicate his candor 
for any sentiments or ideas that may have been 
ill digested or hastily adopted and expressed. * 
The "bona," " mediocria," and "mala" (if 
there are all these descriptions) may I think 
be offered to the public in one common lot, 



* I fear, on revision, that this may have been the case, 
that in retaining the suggestion of the moment, I have 
sometimes wanted a " Cynthius, aurem vellere et ad- 
monere" — that there are " Plura quidem tollenda relin- 
quendis." — Be this as it may, I must now leave it to the 
judgment of the reader. He will, it is to be hoped, dis- 
tinguish the " tollenda" from the consider an da. 



IV PREFACE. 

without the eloquence of the rostrum, or the 
elevation of the hammer, to urge their recep- 
tion, which will probably be such as they are 
found to deserve. They are meant to excite as 
well as to express thought ; and as I have sup- 
posed my readers capable of that (leisure they 
must find themselves) I cannot help flattering 
myself that there will be some among' them 
whose sympathy and approbation I may reckon 
upon, and may have reason to be proud of. 



Exeter, May, 1827. 



THOUGHTS, &c. 



I. 

I have heard it objected to books of this kind, 
that they are of too desultory a nature, as being com- 
posed of detached facts and ideas, in which a sudden 
transition must be made from one to another; but is 
not all philosophical knowledge the result of the observa- 
tion of detached facts ? and is not the general connexion 
between them (for all must be more or less connected) the 
result of still further observation and reflection ? What 
can be more desultory than the facts that occur to 
our daily observation ? And all reasoning from which 
a general conclusion is drawn, must be supported by 
particular facts and arguments, and which must be exa- 
mined and compared. The dwelling on and confining 
ourselves too much to any particular subjects of re- 
flection, may have the ill effect of leading us into 
mistaken notions and habits, more or less injurious to 
our opinions and interests. Acting inconsiderately may 
J)e the result of too partial consideration. 



II. 

If wc admit, as we cannot but do, the existence 
of a Supreme Being, we must be sensible that it far 

B 



exceeds our utmost power to form any conception of 
his nature (quasi natus, mark how inadequate these 
terms are;) but we may have some notion of his at- 
tributes^ both from the ideas we can form of the 
qualities that are required to constitute a being of in- 
finite perfection, as wisdom, justice, goodness, power, 
&c. and from what he says of himself in the Sacred 
Writings; but to judge in any manner of these, as 
forming the character (if that word may be used) of 
such a Being, must require a very great exertion 
of our mental powers, and an equal attention to the 
use we make of them. I say this, as in considering 
the Being we are here speaking of, we are naturally 
apt to fix our attention upon what most immediately 
strikes us, which is, his power; we see and feel the 
strongest proofs of that in his works, in the revolu- 
tions that take place in the celestial bodies, in the 
events and changes of the moral world, &c. ; and 
we are the more sensible of the vastness of this 
power, from the comparison we make of it with our 
own weakness and dependance. In considering this 
attribute, we are too apt to overlook the others (partly, 
perhaps, as not being so immediately obvious) or not to 
give them their due estimation, or to allow to each its 
proper influence. Thus, as considering God as all- 
powerful, we do not at the same time consider that 
the exercise of that power must be regulated by his 
wisdom and his justice, for the latter are as traceable 
in his works as they are inseparable from his nature; 
and if his mercy makes a part (which no doubt it 
does) of that infinite goodness which we are authorised 
to consider as belonging to his nature, it must only 
operate as " tempering his justice," not as infringing 



upon it; if it did the latter, one attribute would be 
destroyed by the other; for as Young says, 
" A God all mercy is a God unjust." 
Each of his attributes must therefore have its proper 
sway and influence ; without these, his nature would 
not be displayed, nor his works have their proper cha- 
racter, as being those " of his hands;" and his attri- 
butes must be exercised, in the moral world, in "di- 
recting, governing, and sanctifying the hearts and bodies" 
of us, his rational creatures (as far as the freedom of 
agency he has given us will allow of that direction, 
and, as far as the use we make of that freedom will 
deserve, or rather not have forfeited it) ** in the ways 
of his laws, and in the works of his commandments." 



III. 

Dr. Johnson's reply to a friend, who said that 
there surely were proofs sufficient of the soul's immor- 
tality, that "he wished for still more," was, 1 think, 
itself an additional proof of it ; for what thinking and 
feeling mind does not wish fur more? And if we 
refer (as we must) all the effects to one Supreme 
Cause, we must consider this wish (our disposition to 
entertain it) as being given us from thence ; and surely 
— surely — it was not given us in vain. 

No, no. "Thereafter as a man feareth," so will it 
also be as he hopeth; provided those hopes have their 
proper accompaniments here. I believe I have urged 
this argument before; but every shape in which it 
presents itself, gives it a new force. Does not this 
unsatisfied wish make part of the "fear and trembling" 
with which we are to "work out our salvation?" 



IV. 

The only means by which we can judge of men r s 
characters, is by the consistency of their actions and 
general conduct ; and this is at best an imperfect and 
fallible means; for the want of consistency may often 
proceed from other and less blameable motives (as 
want of discretion, &c.) than the insincerity, and per- 
haps selfishness and hypocrisy, to which we are apt to 
attribute it. Indeed all worldly Judgments must be 
imperfect, as they are suggested, in some degree at 
least, by worldly feelings; besides that we have not 
the powers given us that are requisite to enable us to 
form them, to the degree of perfection that our way 
of pronouncing them seems to imply the assumption of. 
This, too, shews itself in the expressions we use (for 
language must keep pace with intelligence.) What is 
the full and precise meaning of insincerity ? To give 
us an idea both of the inconsistency that shews itself 
in the characters of others, and in some measure to dis- 
pose us to be lenient in the judgment we form of it, 
we need only to attend to the mannei in which it 
shews itself in ourselves. 

Decisiveness often finds its support in want of liber- 
ality and candour. 



V. 

There is a force in Young's Night Thoughts that 
no other author has equalled ; and well there may, for 
no other subject admits of such a force as that which 
he has written upon. 



VI. 

There are things in the Sacred Writings which arc 
above the reach of our comprehension ; but there are 
noue which are above the reach of our feelings; and 
if our reason is unable to judge of the things (mys- 
terious as they are) themselves, it is very well able to 
ascertain the justness of those feelings which are ex- 
cited by them, 



VII. 

The great design of the Christian religion appears 
to be, and no doubt is, to impress us with that awe 
and reverence, that •' fear and trembling," that depen- 
dance upon the mercies of our Maker, and the medi- 
ation of our Redeemer, which is most suited to the 
sense that we ought to, and cannot but have, when 
we reflect seriously on the weakness, the many im- 
perfections, and the proneness to evil, of our nature. 



VIII. 



How watchful ought we to be over the humour of 
the moment ! How cautious against the indulgence 
of habits that may lead us into actions which are in 
opposition to our better judgments, and which on re- 
flection may draw upon us all the bitterness of self- 
reproach ! and how small a deviation from propriety is 
sufficient to do this! What opportunities may we 



6 



have lost, and how faint may be our hopes either of 
regaining them, or of atoning for their loss ! In con- 
demning ourselves, how do we increase the pain of 
that, by adding to it the condemnation, or at least 
the blame, that may be cast upon us by others ! What 
refuge shall we find from all this ? Instead of finding 
any, we may only have to say to ourselves, 

" Video meliora, proboque, 
" Deteriora sequor." 

The only alleviation of our mental sufferings may be 
in recording them. 

How comprehensive is Horace's 

" Nil conscire sibi, nulla pallescere culpa ! " 



IX. 

The having overcome great defects in ourselves 
makes us 4 more sensible of the pain which lesser ones 
that still remain give us; but the conquest that we 
have already made over ourselves, both induces us to 
attempt others, and assists us in making them. 

Tranquillity does not consist in abstinence from ef- 
forts, but is the result of, and the reward for, having 
made them. 



X. 

The knowledge of ourselves is the more difficult to 
obtain, as, though our line of conduct may be uniform, 
the state of our minds is continually changing, unless 
when it is influenced by some predominant propensity, 



and as far as regards that influence. As to the rest, 
the general conclusion, that " we are fearfully and won- 
derfully made," is perhaps all that we can arrive at. 



XI. 

J.T unfortunately often happens, in this world, that 
those whose dispositions and manners are the most 
calculated to conciliate the friendship of others, are 
the least disposed to be friends to themselves. They 
pay no attention to Juvenal's maxim, 

" Nullum numen abest, si sit prudentia." 



XII. 

The events of to-day make us look forward to what 
will happen to-morrow ; those of yesterday carry our 
views into another world.* 

o 

XIII. 

In writing, especially on interesting subjects, (" quae 
magis ad nos") we should endeavour to be both under- 
stood and felt. 



XIV. 



What a consolation would the Christian lose, if he re- 
garded the Almighty in the light which the Deist does ! 



* As exciting reflection, which perhaps does not immediately 
pillows will suggest it. 



occur ; our 



8 



It is the former who is taught and encouraged to 
consider and address him as " Our Father," &c. The Deist 
may do the same, but then in his heart he is not a Chris- 
tian. His heart " gives the sceptre in his head the lie." 

Lucretius says, 

u Primus in orbe Deos fecit timor :" 

Thereby excluding all other motives; as if, in such a 
case, the human Mind, complicated as it is, could be 
swayed by only one. 



XV. 

What has naturally the most powerful effect upon our 
minds, is the sense of present happiness. If our enjoy- 
ment of that is free from all blame, there can be no 
occasion for any thing to counteract it ; but if our pursuit 
of it (as is the case with us mortals) sometimes leads us 
into a wrong course of conduct, some other sense is re- 
quired to deter us from this, or bring us again from 
it, into a right course ; and this can only be done by 
our fears of the consequences that may follow our 
transgressions, in this or another world. As to our 
hopes of futurity, they must arise from some degree, 
greater or less, of dissatisfaction with our present state, 
and therefore must imply an imperfection in the sense 
of happiness first mentioned, if not an opposite sense 
of misery. To create this imperfection, the sense of 
the short and precarious duration of our happiness here, 
however great it may be at the present moment, is 
of itself sufficient. Constituted, therefore, as we are 
in our present state, our fears and hopes are equally 
necessary to us; the first, to make us look forward 



to a compensation for what we suffer, or what is want- 
ing to us here; the second, to deter us from the abuse 
of the means of present enjoyment that are given 



to us. 



XVI. 

It may sometimes be easier to reason against the 
fear of death, than to reason ourselves out of it. Nay, 
the very exertion of the reasoning faculties may, from 
the impossibility of coming- to an absolutely certain 
conclusion, increase that fear ; as seems to have been 
the case with Dr. Johnson.* 



XVII. 

Of a man who expresses a doubt of the immor- 
tality of the soul, and the retribution of a future life, 
this question may be asked : What do you mean to 
limit? the power, the wisdom, the justice, or the good- 
ness of God ? These indeed are arguments which we 
may be diffident in urging, from our fear of applying 
them to ourselves ; for to which of the above attri- 
butes can we refer with confidence, in support of our own 
hopes of salvation? If to any, it must be the last. 



XVIU. 

What appears to us to be most amiable (perhaps 
even estimable) in the sight of man, may not always be 

* See Article II. 
C 



10 

really so ; for without adopting the dogma of " shiuing 
sins," we may suppose a tinsel in some virtues, that 
has more lustre than solidity; they may want the 
assay of religion. 



XIX. 

How many persons are there, whose command over 
themselves goes no further than the regulation of their 
manners and address— their "outward and visible signs!" 
This, however, will pass current in society, and as far 
as it goes is a ground of confidence. 



XX. 

We should censure, without being censorious, 

XXI. 

"Fe#tina lente" is not only the way to do busi- 
ness, but also to enjoy pleasure. It should, however, 
be worth the dwelling upon, and should leave no sting 
behind it. 



XXII. 

"Lack of matter" is often supplied by manner; as 
it is (as Rosalind says in " As you like it") by «« kissing." 
Indeed it may sometimes be of less consequence what 
we express, than how we express it. So much de- 



11 



pends upon manner and gesture, that one half of the 
intercourse of society may be said (excuse the bull 
reader) to be pa?it o-mimic. 



XXIII. 

The consciousness of what they deserve may some- 
times make men take more offence at the reception 
they meet with from others than was meant to be 



XXIV. 

Is it not a proof of the extent of power in the 
human mind, that it can state a difficulty that it can- 
not resolve ? Does not this imply a sort of imperfect 
comprehension ? 



XXV. 

After all, how far does our power of judging ex- 
tend ? There are many cases in which reason (that 
highest faculty in man) may be staggered. How far 
is reason a match for scepticism? What is its influ- 
ence over opinion? What, in short, would it do, if 
feeling were not called to its aid ? 



XXVI. 

There is no crime in thought, say some. What 
then is it that constitutes, or at least aggravates, the 



12 



crime of wilful and deliberate murder? What, but 
thought? And if that is a crime when carried-to such 
an extent, is there nothing wrong in its first deviations 
from rectitude ? Thought is of such importance in the 
eye of the law, that nothing but the absolute derange- 
ment of the power of thinking (in insanity) is allowed 
as an excuse for crime. 



♦ XXVII. 

Our first thoughts we cannot govern, that is, so as 
to prevent their intrusion : but we can correct them 
by our second thoughts ; and these, perhaps, when well 
reflected on, should govern us. 



XXVIII. 

" Were but the beautiful lineaments of the Christian 
character to be pourtrayed in a theory which should 
disclaim all interference with the consciences and du- 
ties of the world, it would infallibly attract much in- 
tellectual and setirnental admiration." — (Erskine's Remarks 
on the Internal Evidence of the Christian Religion, p. 85.) 
True; for it would then be considered only as a 
theory, an ideal representation. We should then ex- 
claim (without being called upon to consult our hap- 
piness in following it — as indeed we do now) O, if 
it could be realized in practice ! That it cannot, is 
no doubt owing chiefly to the influence of our pas- 
sions, which arc continually in collision with each 
other, and with our reason. It may indeed be ob- 
served, that much of the excellence of the Christian 



13 

doctrines is founded on the supposition (or rather re- 
ality) of the existence of moral evil ; for to obey the 
commandment of " loving our enemies," we must have 
enemies: to "pray for them that persecute us," we 
must have persecutors: to "return good for evil," we 
must suffer evil, &c. If, all men " did as they would 
that others should do unto them," which is perhaps 
the most comprehensive of all the moral precepts of 
the gospel, this would preclude the existence of moral 
evil ; but it would at the same time preclude all choice 
between good and evil, because the latter would no 
longer exist : we can judge of and estimate good, only 
by comparing and contrasting it with evil. 



XXIX. 

What is of the greatest importance to us, is cer- 
tainly the most worthy of our attention. Religion 
should therefore hold the first place ; moral philosophy 
the next ; and history, which exhibits examples of the 
pursuit or neglect of the two first, and of the wisdom 
or folly of mankind, should surely be preferred to works 
of mere invention, as novels, which, though they may- 
contain examples and lessons of morality, are gene- 
rally more read for the amusement and interest, than 
for the instruction they afford, and are not likely to 
have any very beneficial or solid effects upon our 
minds, our lives, or our conversation ; however the 
fashion of the day may require the latter to be im- 
bued with them. One would think that the great 
difficulty in writing novels lay in selection, as there 
are all the possible scenes of human life to choose 
out of. To found novels upon historical facts may 



14 



be to mix the " utile dulci ;" but does it not inter- 
fere with the essential quality of history, Truth? 



XXX, 



There is a self-sufficiency by which self alone is 
satisfied ; as indeed is implied in its name. 



XXXI. 

How often may generosity be repelled by the terms 
on which it is asked ! 



XXXII. 

There is a false pride as well as a false courage, 
and a false shame. The two last, perhaps, are founded 
on the first. 



XXXIII. 

What makes men honest, and what keeps them so ? 
— The solicitude to do what is right, and the fear of 
doing wrong. This too will make us cautious of im- 
puting to others that blame which we ought to take 
to ourselves. 



XXXIV. 

To have been "faithful over a few things,*' is an 
approbation which perhaps there are not many who 



15 

can expect; for it must have been the fidelity of a 
watchman; and who is there that has never slept on 
his post? 



XXXV. 

There is a propensity in our minds to self-conceit, 
which makes us unwilling to adopt any opinion that 
is at all at variance with our preconceived notions, 
however it may be confirmed by the fair examination 
of our reason. Thus, the mysterious doctrines of 
Christianity appear to Mr. Belsham to be a corrup- 
tion of its simplicity. He would make a code of his 
own, that might have many admirers, but probably very 
few followers. 



XXXVI. 

Let our prospects or retrospects be what they may, 
one of the best consolations in this life is, that we 
can say, All is well, at the present moment. To have 
that to say, must at least give a momentary exhila- 
ration. This, however, supposes that we can look for- 
ward with hope, and backward without regret. 



XXXVII. 

A MAN of right feelings is never more disposed to 
be thankful to his Maker, than when he is in good 
health and spirits, and contented with himself. 



16 



XXXVIII. 



From the existence of God, to his providential agency 
over the affairs of men, there is a chain of reasoning, 
the limits of which are inseparable. 



XXXIX. 

The great wish of the human mind is permanency; 
permanency in a state of quiet, and of happiness : we 
are in continual pursuit of it here; but the attainment 
of it is reserved for another life. 



XL. 

Either reward must be considered as the fulfilment 
of desire, or else human desires, however founded in 
reason, must be regarded as impossible to be fulfilled, 
and as given to excite hopes that are never to be 
realised. 

May we not trust to our feelings for the encourage- 
ment of those hopes of happiness to which the mind 
aspires ? Surely we may, if our consciences do not 
convict us of an absolute inconsistency with these feel- 
ings in our conduct. 

There is a place of repose — it is the grave : there 
is a place of happiness— it is in heaven. Can we 
doubt that those who wish for both, and whose con- 
duct has been as much influenced as their minds have 
been occupied by that wish, shall enjoy the fulfilment 
of it? 



IT 



XLI. 

Men who are obstinate and dogmatical in opinion, 
must consider themselves as being dispensed from the 
obligation of " living to learn ;" indeed they seem to 
go farther, and to consider themselves as living to 
teach." 



XLII. 



Between th' extremes to move, 



" Of mad good nature, or of mean self-love." 

Where is the medium between these to be found? 
In consulting our own judgments, or in following the 
examples of others ? If the latter, we have still a 
selection to make. Are men oftener the dupes of their 
confidence in others, or in themselves ? 



XLIII. 

Our great business, morally and religiously speaking, 
here on earth, is, not the attainment of perfection, but 
the doing away of imperfection, of the faults that create 
it : it cannot be said that these are the same thing ; 
for a state of progress is not a state of attainment. 



XLIV. 

" Nullum numen abest, si sit prudentia." 

If we give the most extended sense to " prudence,** 
D 



18 



now many occasions may it afford for self-reproach, in 
a retrospect of our past lives, perhaps to much better 
and more prudent men than myself ! Shall 1 lighten 
my sense of this, by sharing it with them? Still 
much of it will remain, and it ought to remain. But 
let me reserve the detail for my own confessional, and ray 
own regrets. 



XLV. 

We may go on improving in abilities and in virtues, 
but one mischief (and that no small one) is, that our 
vanity is apt to keep pace with our own improvement, 
which it retards the progress of, by continually looking 
behind ; etg tq ottiqu. 



XLVI. 

Give the mind food, or it will prey on itself. Is 
this from an analogy between our physical and moral 
constitutions ? Let not the materialist infer too much 
from this. The germ must have something to put it 
in action ; but its own inherent powers will keep it so. 
A man must feel his own capabilities ; but from whence 
proceeds capability itself? Whence, but from the First 
Cause of ail? 



XLVII. 

It is not merely by publishing moral reflections that 
mankind are to be informed or improved; for surely 
a little exertion of common sense is very equal to the 



19 

making of them; but it is by the lights in which they 
are placed, and the manner in which they are ex- 
pressed : 

44 Delectando, pariterque monendo." 

But take care, author, how you provoke criticism. 



XWIIX. 

There is one kind of measurement, which is among 
the most interesting for us to take, and perhaps the 
most difficult in taking; and that is, the sphere of 
^another man's capacity. 



XLIX, 



Nature seems, in the animal kingdom particularly, 
to have made some things to be admired (all, indeed, 
if considered in one point of view) some to be feared, 
iand some to be laughed at. 



L. 

We are generally more disposed *o inquire into wfeat 
we are to practice than what we are to believe; and 
it seems fit that it should be so; for what we arp 
to practice is more within the reach of our compre- 
hension, than what we are to believe ; and practical 
Christianity of more importance than speculative. The 
importance of the latter depends in a good measure 
upon the influence it has upon the former; as being 



20 



the condition upon which the divine assistance is given 
us in the regulation of our conduct. 



LI. 

The descriptions given by the poets, of the an- 
cient and primitive simplicity of mankind, the golden 
age, &c. prove, 1 believe, more the idea that we have 
of what men ought to be, than that that idea was ever 
realised ; that there ever was a time 

" When service sweat for duty, not for meed." 

(Shakspeares Js you like it. J 



LIT. 

If it is not exactly true, as has been said, that 
" words are things," we must at least allow that things 
depend a good deal upon their expression in words; 
as may be instanced in the " curiosa felicitas" of 
Horace; which indeed we must allow sometimes shews 
itself "parum pudice." 

If we attend to what passes in our own minds, we 
shall find that we may have an idea of things with- 
out being able to express them in words ; but then 
the idea is perhaps itself imperfect. Thus it seems 
that intelligence and expression go hand in hand toge- 
ther. One would think, however, that we may know 
a "hawk from a hernshaw," (or " handsaw," * if Shake- 



• I do not know whether the reading of "handsaw'' may not, like 
Shakespeare's other " anomalies/ ' be defended against those who, like 
Warburton (see Edwards's " Canons of Criticism.") would have him " speak 



21 



speare and my reader please,) or u a sheep's head from 
a carrot," without being able to give them their proper 
names; but there must be some power of description. 



LIII. 

Would it be a new question in Ethics, how far 
the love of fun may be carried, without offence or 
injury to morality? A "figure of fun" (I mean a 
rhetorical one) may be useful, if set in a proper di- 
rection (well placed and timed.) Wilful or blundering 
perversion may be shamed into intelligence, by those 
who have it, and will use it properly. 



LIV. 

We are never more inclined to be in good humour 
with others, than when they put us in good humour 
with ourselves. 



LV. 

Touch a string in the human mind, and all the 
corresponding strings will vibrate ; such is the extent 
of analogy, of harmony, and of general connexion. 



by the card." In this case, too, the stronger the dissimilitude, the more 
powerful is the representation. An approach to nonsense may have its 
effect, as a reply to an argument which deserves no better. If a man will 
not, or cannot, see farther than his nose, what object shall we set before him ? 
It must be a broad one, certainly. 



22 



LVI. 

We are apt to be jealous of the liberties that others 
take with us, in porportion to our idea of their power 
of abusing them; for is it not the sense cf power that 
influences the will? And when those liberties are 
carried beyond the bounds of custom, we have no rule 
to calculate by. 



LVII. 

" Vox audita perit ; litera scripta manet." 
Yes ; but the " vox audita" more immediately ex- 
cites attention, and calls for reply : it provokes it, as 
being a personal address. 



LVIII. 

" Opinion is beginning to establish a country * of 
its own," says the Morning Chronicle of May 15, 1823. 

Opinion, in some shape and degree or other, has 
always governed mankind. It is therefore of all coun- 
tries. In our times, it is more free, and perhaps more 
enlightened and influential. But what is opinion, and 
how is itself influenced ? 



LIX. 

If we consider how much in this world must be mat- 
ter of opinion, we need not wonder that opinions should 

* By a " country of opinion" perhaps (be M. C. means an imaginary 
country. 



23 

differ so widely from each other. Truth, however, must 
be somewhere, (though we sometimes make our igno- 
rance a plea for doubting it) and we have at least 
probability to guide us to it. 



LX. 

In nature there is much to admire, much to investi- 
gate, much to know, and much more to remain igno- 
rant of. The sense of that ignorance is perhaps the 
highest knowledge we can have. 

If matter is infinitely divisible (as it is said to be) 
the smallest conceivable body must be an aggregate 
of parts. 



LXI. 



That our reason and feelings are so often at vari- 
ance makes a part, and no small one, of our probation. 



LXII. 



A pious mind (and what rational being can be 
without such?) must necessarily look forward to other 
objects and enjoyments than this world can afford, to 
excite its piety. Reflection increases this sentiment, 
but gives no encouragement or sanction to the mere 
desire of prolonging our existence here, except it is 
to perform our duties in it. 



24 



LXIII. 



"Whatever question is proposed, and of whatever 
nature it is, and the more in proportion to its serious- 
ness, importance, and intricaey, . ought to be fairly, 
candidly, and reasonably examined. 



LXIV. 

Knowing as we do, if we know any thing at all of 
human nature, the propensity that men have to form 
conclusions from partial reasoning, we ought to distrust, 
or at least to listen with great caution to, any opinions 
that are advanced by individuals even of great appa- 
rent ability, if those opinions are dogmatically pronounced, 
and if they relate to difficult and complicated cases, 
and are at variance with the general opinion of the 
world, from which those individuals, in the pride of 
their self conceit, may exult in differing. In such a 
light, 1 should regard the dictum of a certain Jewish 
Rabbi, quoted, I think (and perhaps with complai- 
sance) by Dr. Geddes, " that Moses was a cunning 
fellow." Is this, with all its bearings, consistent with 
a fair and complete examination of all that the Bible 
contains? And is it from the mouth of a Jew (all 
Rabbi as he is) that we are to take our notions of 
a book, of which the Christian system forms an es- 
sential and inseparable part? To say with the Jew 
Rabbi, " that Moses was a very cunning fellow," 
would be to suppose an alliance between truth and 
falsehood (in one being made by Moses an instrument 
to establish the other) that would be totally incom- 



25 

patible with all the ideas we can form of the sanc- 
tity of truth, and of the source from whence it must 
proceed. 



LXV. 

Some parts of the Scriptures seem to be meant to 
humiliate us by a representation of human imperfec- 
tions, as in the supplanting of Esau by Jacob, &c. ; 
and at the same time they preclude us from censuring 
them, by their connexion with the rest of the Bible. 



LXVI. 

The Bible stands alone, but it stands on its own 
supports : to know the strength of these, it should be 
fairly and carefully examined. What collateral vouchers 
can we reasonably expect for such facts as the pro- 
phecies of Balaam, the narratives concerning Elijah, &c. 
and even for that of the deliverance of Daniel in the 
lions' den ; of Shadrac, Meshac, and Abednego in the 
fiery furnace ; of the hand-writing on the wall seen 
by Belshazzar, followed immediately after by the des- 
truction of Babylon, &c. 

The great leading facts in some of these, are indeed 
mentioned by other historians, as the taking of Babylon 
by Cyrus, &c. ; but to suppose the relative details of 
the Bible to be built upon these, would indeed be a 
bold and unauthorised assumption. If they were, they 
would not surely have been related in the manner 
they are. 

The authority of the Sacred Writings is contained 
E 



m 



chiefly within itself, as being a contracted chain, whose 
links support and strengthen each other, so that none- 
can be taken away without the destruction of all the 
rest ; a consequence that, in a body of history of suck 
magnitude and continuance, and whose parts are so 
connected with each other, would shake the founda- 
tions of all reasonable credibility. 



LXVII. 

The sense of our ignorance will make us desirous 
of receiving information from others, and ought also 
to make us cautious in receiving it, and no less cau- 
tious in forming opinions of our own. 



LXVIIL 

If we are only capable of partial reasoning, we can* 
only be capable of receiving partial information. 



LX1X. 

Men are so apt to be jealous of and prepossessed 
against particular professions, that it creates in them 
an equal disregard for what belongs to all: for if 
they do not do justice in one case, how can they be 
expected to do it in others? 



LXX. 

Those who are sensible of the true enjoyments of 



27 



life, and have the sources of them in their own breasts, 
will know the value of being cheaply pleased. 



LXXL 

The etymology of the word g ntlematt, (a gentle man) 
is, I believe, indicative of the best quality, or rather 
assemblage of qualities, that forms the character ; and 
as such it has been originally assigned to it.* In 
giving it its full extent, how nearly do we find it allied 
to the Christian ! 



LXX1I. 

It is the motion of the features, much more than 
^heir form, that indicates the mind : should not this 
be considered by craniologists and physiognomists ? 
Perhaps they will say that the form determines the 
motion. 



LXXIIL 

A certain degree of self-complacency may be ne- 
cessary to render us sufficiently independent of the 
caprice or injustice of others; but we should take care 
that this does not grow into self-sufficiency: if it does, 
all improvement is at an end. 



* The reader may, if he pleases, consider this as an etymology of my 
own : howerer, I think ihe ,e original assignment" is justly accounted for ; 
for when could a real gentleman be other than gentle? And what rfcnk is 
society Haay not this quality extend to? 



28 



LXXIV. 

If mercy were not extended to human vanities, what 
would our fate be? 



LXXV. 

Fame may be " a bubble ;" but what is it when 
well-earned? 



LXXVI. 

Our reason cannot keep pace with our imagination 
or our feelings : but it can inform us when they are 
properly directed ; and its sanction will give them the 
stamp of truth. 



LXXVI1. 

The stimulus that the human mind requires to excite 
it to the performance of its duties, must necessarily be 
greater than what its own sense of its powers of attain- 
ment (or at least its experience upon trial) can come 
up to ; because the ultimate object held out as the 
reward of its endeavors (and it is endeavor that is 
required, and not perfect attainment) towards that per- 
formance, is infinitely beyond any thing that it has 
power to conceive; and nothing less would be suffi- 
cient to excite these endeavors ; for the wishes of the 
human mind exceed all its powers of attainment. 



29 



LXXVIII. 

If other proofs were wanting of the great imper- 
fection of human nature, would it not be a sufficient 
one, that the best claim an individual can have to 
the esteem of his fellow creatures, must be founded on 
his manifestation of that reasonable humility, that "out- 
ward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace" 
which can only arise from a due sense of what he is, 
and must be, in the sight of his Creator; from trie 
feeling which his conscience must impress him with, 
when he looks up to his God, or to that embodied ex- 
cellence which shewed itself in the character of his 
Saviour ? Any other merit that may be due to him 
as a member of society, must arise from a (relative) 
comparison between him and the rest of those who 
have "fallen short" (very short, indeed h " of the Glory 
of God." Well then may Young say, 

"A Christian is the highest style of man."* 



LXXIX. 

If those hopes of futurity by which we are encou- 
couraged and enabled to support the trials and perform 
the duties of life, and by which alone our very exist- 
ence is sometimes made tolerable to us ; if those hopes 
are founded in delusion, then the wisdom, justice, and 



• See, my good reader, this and the lines that follow it, in the fourth 
book of the Night Thoughts. They, I think, will make you feel as the 
Poet must have felt, when he wrote them. 



30 



benevolence of God are evinced, and satisfied by the 
means of falsehood and imposition ; and truth itself 
lends its sanction to a lie. But, as Young well says, 
"this cannot be." 

The highest mental pleasures that we can enjoy here, 
only make us feel our capacity of enjoying still higher, 
unless this feeling is precluded by some impediment or 
other, great part of which probably originates in our- 
selves, and from our own faults. Though we did not 
"make ourselves/' we very probably may have made 
them. 



LXXX. 

To mix vicious practices with religious observances, 
is to profane the very source of virtue, in confounding 
it with vice. Weil therefore might St. Paul separate 
them so widely, in his address to the Corinthians. 



LXXXI. 

All human affairs are more or less mutable and 
precarious ; it is easier for us, perhaps on that ac- 
count, to see the tendency they have towards a change, 
than to see when or in what manner that change will 
be brought about. We can neither see with any clear- 
ness how causes may concur to produce certain effects, 
nor how they may counteract each other. Possibly 
very opposite effects may be produced to what we 
expected, and in a manner we cannot account for. Is 
not this evinced by the different accounts given by 
historians ? Is not the same thing evinced in physi- 
cal cases ? What do we mean when we say (as is 



31 



done in both cases) that matters, or diseases, took such 
or such a tarn ? 

All human reasoning must be more or less partial, 
and therefore can never thoroughly elucidate the sub- 
jects that it treats of, if they are at all complicated* 



LXXXII. 

What is space, compared (if the comparison can be 
made) with infinity ? Nothing, the philosopher will 
answer, even the greatest magnitude that can be conceived 
by our imaginations. Infinity, however, it should seem, 
must consist of space ; and in our pursuit (if so it may be 
called) of the former, we ^an only go on increasing and 
multiplying, the greatest amount of which will admit of a 
comparison with the smallest from which we may have 
begun. But perhaps we can have no idea of space with- 
out assigning a limit to it. Infinity of space supposes an 
endless progression ; space infinite supposes that progres- 
sion completed,— suppositions which contradict each other. 
Does not this metaphysical reasoning put a negative upon 
any ideas that we can form? 



LXXXIII. 

Abstract terms may be used : an abstract idea cannot 
be formed. But what is a term that expresses no idea ? 



LXXXIV. 

We throw ourselves into the arms of others, to seek that 
support which we might often find, and better find, in our- 



32 



selves. Independence on society, however, does not sup- 
pose exclusion from it; on the contrary, without that 
independeuce there can be no social enjoyment. 



LXXXV. 



A man may be allowed some separation from society, 
if he employs himself in what is likely to be of use to it : 
his inclination to do this (let Diogenes ascribe it to what 
motive he will) will not let him separate himself wholly 
from " his kind :" he will neither be " oblitus suorum, ! ' 
nor " obliviscendus ab illis." 



LXXXVI. 

All thought (that deserves the name) is association of 
ideas. Dwelling exclusively on one will make us too 
much neglect others. Even religion may be included in 
this ; it must be associated with all that it regards ; and 
what does it not regard ? 



LXXXVII. 

How many habits and opinions do we begin with from 
impulse, and persevere in from indolence ! As " idleness 
is the root of all evil," so indolence is the bar to all 
improvement. * 



* The " strenua inertia" suppose* a progress, but not towards an im- 
provement. All however must be mixed. Where is the " sincerum vas." 



3.3 



Habit governs our inclinations, habit confirms them. By 
dwelling on one thing, our attachment to it is increased, 
and it is recommended to us by appearing in a new and 
more striking light. Thus we become better or worse, by 
persevering in the course we have entered upon. 



LXXXVUI. 

That we are " unprofitable servants" levels all distinc= 
tions, except those of endeavours. 



LXXXIX. 

It should seem that the disposition that men have 
to differ in opinion from each other (and not unfre- 
quently from the prevailing one of the country they live 
in; especially on the most difficult and important subjects, 
makes their rulers, glad to avail themselves of any band 
that will keep them together, and gives rise iu part (mixed 
perhaps with other causes) to the fear of making any inno- 
vations which might stir up the spirit of discord, and might 
be carried still farther by those who are always the most 
active, and generally the most mischievous members of 
society. 



XC. 



Men of high notions in politics will not leave Provi- 
dence to take its own course in human affairs ; not satis- 

F 



34 



fied with any subordinate agency, they will take the 
" sceptre and the rod" into their own hands, an attempt 
of which they are generally the victims. 



XCI. 

The measure of faith must probably be filled up by 
other means than what our comprehension supplies us 
with : different minds require different degrees of informa- 
tion. The heart, too, must concur with the head ; and 
both must be right. 



XCII. 

Madame de Stael's reasoning upon the "passion of 
love," seems to suppose that it may exist in such a degree 
between two human beings, as to produce a happiness that 
will not only anticipate, but even preclude the happiness 
of another life. Where is this "parfait sentiment" to be 
found ? If any where, it must be what Young speaks of, — 

" Heaven given above for heaven enjoyed below:" 

Of which Madame de Stael's happiness seems to be the 
reverse, as being " given below" for (i. e. instead of) that 
to be " enjoyed above." Madame de Sfcael and Young 
certainly allude to different feelings, which indeed ake 
confounds in supposing a parity between them that cannot 
exist: they cannot both be " parfaits," whatever partial 
similarity there may be between them. 

We may say, perhaps, that Madame de Stael's prose is 
more poetical (in one respect at least) than Young's poetry. 
Young does not deal injiction. He was otherwise inspired. 

" Ah ! qu'il est beau ce sentiment, qui, dans l'age 



35 

avance, fait eprouver une passion, peut-etre plus profonde 
encore que dans la jeunesse ; une passion qui rassenible 
dans Tame tout ce que le terns enleve aux seusations." — 
Madame de Stael sur les Passions. 

To qualify a man for all that is required for the real en- 
joyment of the sentiment (not the " passion," though 
Madame de S tad's theory seems to confound the two terms, 
or feelings— or sensations — whichever she pleases) of 
love, we may say, perhaps, that he must have in the first 

instance, 

" Mens sana in corpore sano." 

Query, does Madame de >S tad's theory leave him 
either ? 

" C'est hors de soi que sont les seules jouissauces iude- 
finies." — (She might have said indefinissables.) 

Les passions egoistes (to speak Madame de Stael's own 
language) retrecissentl'ame; l'amour l'exalte, mais i'amour 
qui luimeme est exalte. 

The sentiment of love (not the passion) exalts the soul ; 
and the more, as it is itself the more exalted : to give ele- 
vation, it must itself possess it; if it does not, what more 
ean it do than intoxicate ? 

But what does Pope make Eloisa say ? What indeed 
she probably said (or wrote) herself, 

" O death all eloquent ! you only prove 

" What dust we dost on when 'tis man we love." 

is this then the "parfait sentiment," mixed, as it 
must be, with sensuality : and that has so precarious a 
dependance ? 

The talent of writing (and even of thinking) often carries 
those who exercise it, beyond their mark; or at least be- 
yond the bounds of reason ; as it seems to have done 
Madame de Stael. With her, sentiments are passions. Her 
reasoning, however ingenious, is more declamatory than 
argumentative ; more florid than solid. 



36 



XCIII. 



Those who profess themselves to have been made me- 
lancholy by reading Young's Night Thoughts, must, I 
think, be deficient both in thought and feeling. If they 
had a reasonable share of either, and made a proper use of 
them, they would find that the melancholy and anxiety 
suggested by their reflections on the passages of this life, 
and the prospect of its close, are best to be allayed by 
such arguments as are offered, and so powerfully enforced, 
in the Night Thoughts : I say such arguments, for they 
are such as we find (certainly with much higher authority) 
in the Scriptures, of which, as I have said elsewhere, 
Young's poem may be considered as a noble paraphrase. 



XCIV. 

The juices that will not ripen in one climate may be 
reserred to ripen in another ; for on what does maturity 
depend ? The tree bears its fruit here on earth, to.be sure ; 
and in the soil on which it grows ; and it is " known by 
that fruit :" but how many circumstances are required to 
bring its fruit to perfection ! It did not make itself, nor 
can it command any of these ; will it be " cast away," if 
any of them are adverse to it ? No, we trust that it will 
not : and what too is the perfection required ? To what 
use is the " talent" to be put ? What is the "state sin- 
cere" in which " every end is accomplished ? " Our 
best attempts may be ill-directed : for our omissions we 
are certainly responsible ; but at what earthly tribunal is 
that responsibility to be measured ? 



37 



Some fruits ripen better by hanging long on th» tree. 
Which are the worst — natural or moral crudities? 



xcv. 

What is the best security for the happiness of life, and 
the most to be depended upon, for making us contented 
with, ourselves, and respectable to others ? Equanimity. 
What are the best means of attaining this ? Piety and 
resignation. 



XCV1. 

An inclination to find defects in any thing may often 
arise from a want of power to perceive beauties : we 
should, however, have an eye open to both. 



XCVII, 

Dogmatism and obstinacy are the natural consequences 
of partial decisions or rather the causes of them ; for 
when one side or part of a question only is examined, 
there can be no comparative, and consequently no satisfac- 
tory judgment formed. But when was the " audi alteram 
partem" fairly attended to? When do we do justice, 
either to our own reason, or to the case that lies before us ? 



XCVIII. 

Ignorance is the parent of doubt, and is itself an 
answer to it, if the ignorance is such as may be expected 



38 



from the nature and condition of man, and suited to all his 
wants, propensities, and prospects. The proper sense of 
it may be as useful to him as the application of what he 
knows. 



XCIX. 



Wjs are apt to undervalue reason, because we see so 
little of the exercise of it among mankind ; but is it the less 
valuable for this? Rather the contrary; for else, why 
should the want of it be so much noticed ? and we might 
as well, for the same reason, doubt the existence of it ; for 
s< de non apparentibus," &e. 



C, 

Our reason may give us all the anxieties of doubt, and 
our sensibility those of feeling ; but both the one and the 
other are, under the shelter and sanction of religion, the 
best preparative for that state in which no anxieties or 
doubts will remain. 



CI. 

Where is the " aurea mediocritas ? " Aurca it may 
well be termed, for it is at least as difficult to be found as 
the precious metal to which it is compared ; and we may be 
" tutissimi" in it; but how is the state to be realised ? 
No, it is an abstract idea (I beg pardon — I should have 
said, an abstract term,*) impracticable in itself, but as desi- 



• See No. LXXXIJI. 



39 

rable to be approached in practice (and that approach 
must be chiefly in the mind) as any object can be. 



Some religion must be true, or all must be false ; for 
truth and falsehood cannot be so allied, as they would be 
if Christianity was not perfectly true ; and all other reli- 
gious systems must derive the share of truth which they 
possess, from it. As the source of truth, therefore, it 
must be selected and distinguished from all others, and all 
the preparations must have been made for it, that are 
stated in the book which records them, and vouches for 
its own truth. 



cm. 

We must either disbelieve all interference of providence 
in the affairs of men, and adopt the maxim of the Epicu- 
reans, " Nihil curat Deus," or we must believe those that 
are recorded in the Bible, perfectly as they accosd with 
the nature and condition of man, and the circumstances of 
human life. 

If we cannot understand a mystery which is held out 
for our reception, we cannot perfectly know what it is that 
we are to believe : this (which extends to all natural reli- 
gion) is an answer to any objection to the belief of myste- 
ries which are otherwise well attested ; and it should pre- 
vent us from attempting to explain what is so much above 
our comprehension : sufficient if we believe it to be (what 
Christianity fully proves itself to be) of divine origin. It 
is when men attempt to explain mysteries, that they 



40 



begin to differ about them ; and the more, as it sets their 
heads and hearts at variance with each other. 



CIV. 

All that regards the person and nature of Christ in the 
Sacred Writings, is wrapped up in mystery ; nor is this 
awful obscurity cleared up to our understandings by the 
expressions made use of by our Saviour regarding himself* 
His saying, indeed, " My father is greater than I," does 
not appear to me to justify its bei:»g taken in allusion to his 
temporary state as man, but that it is a positive statement 
of his real condition as a being. There are, however, 
other expressions of his (and those as well authenticated, 
and consquently as well entitled to our reception as 
any part of the New Testament,) that indicate an as- 
sumption of the highest nature that can be conceived to 
exist: and these, joined with the passages in St. Paul, &c. 
(" thought it not robbery to be equal with God,'' &c.) leave 
us without a right or a reasonable motive to lower the 
nature of our Saviour beneath the highest that can be 
assigned to him. Rash, therefore (to use the lightest term) 
in the extreme are those, who will not allow what indeed, 
cannot be brought within their fullest comprehension, but 
what is supported by evidence that has the strongest de- 
mand upon their reason for the allowance of the truths which 
it attests. As to our being left in the dark respecting the 
doctrines of Christianity, it may surely be accounted for 
by a due attention to the nature of the human mind. Less 
than the awe that this inspires, would not have the effect 
upon it that is required to impress it with a due sense of 
of its condition and its duties : it is too apt to abuse the 
knowledge it is capable of acquiring, for us not to suppose 



41 



that this abuse would take place at the utmost extent that 
the human capacity could be carried to ; unless, indeed, 
man's nature was wholly changed. It is not therefore only 
the safest, but also the most reasonable way, for us to assign 
to Christ a divinity of the highest order, and to pay him 
all the homage that such a divinity requires. The legacy 
(if it may be so called) that he has left us, demands it; for 
what higher gift could be bestowed upon us than eternal 
salvation, and the confident hope of it which his " grace, 
the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost," 
impart? O then let us prostrate ourselves before his 
throne, in humble acknowledgment of our unworthiness, 
our submission, and our gratitude; let us "embrace and 
ever hold fast that blessed hope" that the promises of the 
gospel have given so great an encouragement to, and that 
they alone can give us a full assurance that it will be 
realised ; and let us strive to merit it (if merited it can be) 
as well by our works as by our faith, the one being the 
produce and the fruit of the other. 



CV. 

A man will never know how to set its true value upon 
any thing, till he knows how to estimate himself. 



CVI. 

Sensible people may have their weaknesses ; but 
is it not strange, that the weakest parts are more than a 
match for the strongest ? 



CVII. 

Which is most seen, the greatness or the impotence of 
reason, when it is opposed to the passions ? 



42 



CVIII. 



What a strange creature man is, when his mind 
exhibits all that he can be, and his conduct all that 
he ought not to be! 



CIX. 

Vice is so lost in folly, that one hardly knows whether 
to pity or condemn it the most. But when it assumes its 
"frightful mien" 



CX. 

There is a sort of greatness, that seems almost incom- 
patible with the softer virtues ; but this cannot be true 
greatness. 



CXI. 

The compliment that we pay to ourselves in comparison 
with others, sometimes allays the bitterness of our anger 
against them. Thus one vice counteracts another. Vanity 
does what humility ought to do. 



CXII. 

We are sometimes apt to say the loudest, what is the 
least worth hearing ; nay, worse, what had better not 
be heard at all. Is it because we are fools ourselves, or 



43 



are aware that we are addressing such? or are we afraid 
of making the best of ourselves ? 



CXIII. 

If it was not for our ignorance, we should not have so 
much to talk and write about. Discussion closes when it 
arrives at its end. 



CXIV. 

If we examine many maxims closely, we shall perhaps 
find them little more than a play upon words : but if 

*' words are things' 7 It is no great recommendation 

of a maxim, however, that it requires a play upon words 
to set it off. 



ex v. 

When people understand themselves, they are less 
likely to misunderstand one another. Quarelling is mis- 
understanding, and misunderstanding is blundering. Is 
this what makes a certain nation so quarrelsome ? 



CXVI. 

There is perhaps hardly a moment in our lives in 
which we do not feel the want or the possession of that 
calm, that presence of mind, without which we can have 
no real enjoyment of any thing. The society of an 



44 



intimate companion is much conducive to this, in enabling 
us to disburden ourselves of what obstructs it. 



CXVII. 

A MAN will not be dictated to ; and he is right : for is 
it not a fellow creature that addresses him? There was 
but one who had a right to " speak as having authority, and 
not as one of the Scribes." But he also said, that "they 
would not listen to the voice of the charmer, charmed he 
ever so wisely." Are we all " deaf adders ? " Sad expe- 
rience however comes, and then 



CXVIII. 

Providence seems to permit sometimes the abuse of 
the highest talents, that it may be seen of how little value 
they are when so abused. Of this we have seen more than 
one instance in our times. 

CXIX. 

What right have we to give ourselves credit for any 
of our good qualities, when we know so little of the source 
of them ? 



cxx. 

To enjoy time, we should be independent of it. 



CXXI. 

We may despise " every-day characters;" but it is an 
useful shelter ; " Defendit numerus." 



45 



CXX1L 



By the castles we build in the air, one would suppose 
that we expected a " world to come" before our death. 



CXXIII. 

Beauty is so essential to nature, that there is hardly a 
spot to be found which is totally divested of every kind 
and degree of it. If we do not find it on the earth we 
tread on, we need but to cast our eyes upwards, or on 
the light that is shed around us. Well therefore might 
Thomson say — 

" I cannot go 
" Where universal love not smiles around," &c. 



CXXIV. 

What a refuge does our littleness find in infinity, and 
how necessary is that refuge ! 



CXXV. 

Perhaps we are not at ease in society, till we know 
what we may expect, and what we owe. 



CXXVI. 

The good feelings are so iutimately connected with each 
other, that any one infallibly brings on the rest, and the 



46 

pleasure this gives to others will certainly revert upon 
ourselves. There are some appendages to human 
nature, that should seem to force congeniality. 



CXXVI1. 



W E are often disappointed in our expectation of reward 
here on earth : is not this a proof that retribution is in 
better hands ; for somewhere it must be. 



CXXVIII. 

Imitation may as often lead us wrong as right : indeed 
all is imitation, perhaps even singularity ; but of imitation 
there is but one proper model. 



CXXIX. 

How seldom does the eye see through the medium of 
the mind ! — at least that of the judgment. We are easily 
dazzled : excess, however, generally displeases. 



cxxx. 

" Crime is much oftener protected than innocence." — 
Amelot dc la Houssayc's Moral Reflections. 

I cannot help thinking that this is saying too much. 
There are many inducements for a maxim-maker to pass 
a severer censure upon the world than it deserves. We 
should ask in the first place, what is here meant by " pro- 
tection," and how much " innocence" wants it ? 



47 



CXXXI. 

What is the maturity of thought? Action, 



CXXXII. 

We can hardly suppose that our Saviour meant to 
guard us against the " world" altogether, but against the 
abuses of it. It cannot be all " spotted." 



CXXXI1I. 

Nothing is more pleasing or estimable than a modest 
simplicity ; and yet how rarely is it to be found, either in 
the exhibition of ourselves, or of what we possess ! 



CXXXIV. 



A vivacious French philosopher, speaking of the 
effects produced by the washing of torrents from moun- 
tains, says, that in process of time, the saying of Louis XIV. 
to his son will be realised : " Mon fils, il n'y aura plus de 
Pyrenees." Thus our imaginations supply our want of 
knowledge. How many centuries of centuries will be 
required for this operation ? " Time costs nature nothing." 
True, Messieurs les Philosophes : that is, the " Nature" 
that you have in view. But where is your " primum 
mobile ?" 



48 



cxxxv. 

Conversation is sometimes like some medicines, a 
chip in porridge." 



CXXXV I. 

How often do those who have feelings suppress the 
outward demonstration of them, in complaisance to those 
who have none ! 



CXXXV1I. 

Some people appear to be so void of feeling, that the 
common rules of religion and morality are not made for 
them ; and to such cases the text " to whom much is 
given," &c. maybe applied (as judging by its converse.) 
But theti it is said, " What I say unto you I say unto all, 
Watch." But even watching may be relative to the power 
of doing it. It results from all this, that we are totally 
unable to judge of others ; and it is one of the instances 
which shew that we may judge of what we have a right 
to do, by what we are able to do. It is ourselves only that 
we can and ought to judge. 



CXXXVIII. 

Those who dissent from public opinion, get, no further 
than a state of doubt, in which they remain. They can 
propose nothing, in lieu of what they disapprove of ; ex- 
cept indeed it is a castle in the air. 



49 



CXXXIX. 



Those who wish to be convinced of the sluggishness and 
narrowness of the human mind, need only to attend to the 
effect which a very little change of situation produces upon 
it, in the different sensations that are excited by it. 



CXL. 

Those who assign every thing to natural operation, of 
course will not allow the " visitation of God." But what 
directs these natural operations ? 



CXLI. 

How much there is in this world of ours, natural and 
moral, to delight, how much to afflict, how much to encou- 
rage, and how much to awe us ! And all, all conduce to 
form one great and decisive state of trial. 



CXLII. 

To those who consider God only as an Almighty Being, 
every act of supreme goodness seems to be derogatory 
from the majesty of supreme power; as if any condescen- 
sion was beneath it. Thus they sacrifice one attribute to 
another, little as our little minds are able to reconcile 
them — but necessary as they are to each other. 

H 



50 



CXL1II, 



What is often a picture to the eye in nature, may not 
admit of being made so in representation on paper or can- 
vass, by the pencil or the brush. This perhaps is, because 
the imagination (the " mind's eye") assists in the first, and 
also because there is a power of exhibition in nature that no 
art can equal : besides that, there is in the great field of 
nature an opportunity for the eye to compare and select 
objects and scenes, that adds to the pleasure we have in 
contemplating them. Much of this indeed will depend on 
the state of the atmosphere, as well as on the point of view 
from which we behold them. The alternate observation of 
natural scenery and artificial representation greatly assist 
each other. In the first, the recollection of the latter 
enables the eye to select pictures ; in the latter, that 
of the first enables it to judge of the justness of the re- 
presentation. 



CXLIV. 

When melody is too flowing, it does not give the mind 
time to dwell on, or to feel the expression of any particular 
part of it : therefore slow music will always make the 
deepest impression, and will be most pleasing to those who 
are capable of feeling the full power of music. 

What is the test of excellence in all utterance, all 
action ? Precision. Without this, there can be no real 
expression, which should always be in its proper place, es- 
pecially in music, which may be considered as the perfec- 
tion of utterance. Simplicity too (at least to unlearned 
ears) is no less essential to it. My reader will not con- 
found the precision I have been speaking of, with precise-' 



51 

ttess, nor will be suppose that 1 meau to exclude ease and 
elegance. 



CXLV. 

What is the proper definition of poetry ? Shall we 
call it thought in a fancy dress? or is not that inadequate to 
the higher kinds of poetry, which however may have a little 
of that amplification and superabundant ornament which 
I have heard attributed to poetry of all kinds. Homer 
indeed calls it the " language of the gods," and puts it into 
the " os magna sonans" of his Jupiter, &c; and Horace, 
speaking of that great master of it, says, 

" Qui, quid sit pulcrum, quid turpe, quid utile, quid non, 
" Plenius et melius chrysippo et crantore dicit." 

The " plenius" here, however, may savour a little of the 
amplification* above-mentioned. Poetry indeed (except 



• Some amplification 13 necessary to attract notice : common life is suf- 
ficiently interesting to each individual, as all his responsibility generally 
lies within the sphere of it — (above or helow it, perhaps, temptation may 
lessen that responsibility,) and all his happiness too j for it is the " golden 
mean" that alone contains it ; but though this will procure the approbation 
of the reasonable few, and even force that of the great majority, it will be 
but negative approbation that they give : something above or below it is 
required to excite their admiration or compassion; and though we are 
" tutissimi" in it, and in having our " moderation known unto all men," 
yet we are no t content with it. — Exaggeration even pursues us in our 
dreams. Life itself is but a waking dream.- — Nay more, we never think 
we have attained it : like all other means of human happiness, it lies within 
our reach, and we never reach it : indeed we always think ourselves either 
above or below it; if the former, our pride is excUed by it— if the latter, 
our envy ; well therefore may we deprecate them both, for pride and envy 
are the two great characteristics of human nature, as they are the greatest 
enemies to human happines-s ; enemies that vre encourage both in ourselves 



52 



such as the golden verses of Pythagoras) can seldom be 
so compressed as prose. But we must give all its due 
credit to the " curiosa felicitas," (ah why, Petronius, was 
you not always guided by that delicacy of taste that this 
implies ?) of Horace, and acknowledge the effects of poetry 
on our minds when it is so adorned and enforced. 



CXLVI. 

All the three sister arts are indeed linked together in 
one chain ; and as 

" From harmony, from heavenly harmony, 
u This universal frame began," 

so of that chain does this harmony hold the key, especially 
in music, the effects of which appear to me to be more in- 
describable than those of either of the two other arts ; but 
all the three, perhaps, carry the mind beyond the reach 
of its own intelligence ; all in their different modes of 
action, upon our different organs and affections, have the 
same effects upon " the diapason, man." 

Of the three sister arts, Painting may be the most diffi- 
cult to carry to perfection : or rather, we have a higher 
idea of that difficulty, from having so frequently before our 
eyes the model that it imitates, and which it is impossible 
to equal. In the other two arts, our idea of perfection is 
more abstract, from our having no sensible object to com- 
pare it with ; which made an admirer of Giardini's playing, 
by a humorous hyperbole, call it "a sound in the abstract." 
Mr. Locke's imperfect (though acute and profound) trea- 

and m others. To secure, in some measure, the peace of both, we may 
keep these enemies in piison ; nay, more, we may disarm them ; but to do 
this, we must ha*e the aid of nligion — of religion, confirmed and enforced 
fcy reason. 



53 

tise may perhaps aim at a power in man of having " ideas" 
that verge towards that perfection which is reserved for him 
in another world, and which ideas were given to him for 
that purpose by his Maker. Be this as it may, the powers 
of man have surely done themselves great honour in rising 
so high as they have ; and they have only to follow Shake- 
speare's advice, in not " overstepping the modesty of that 
nature" which they imitate. 



CXLVIL* 

*' Works built upon general nature will live for ever/' 

( Sir Joshua 'Reynolds.) 

To this it may be said that the duration of the works 
will depend upon the materials they are built with, and how 
far they are calculated to stand the ravages of time. It 
may also be asked, what is meant by " general nature ?" 
If the works she in general displays, there must be at 
least some selection of the best, and the choice will depend 
upon the general opinion of mankind, various as that is, 
and subject to change. The excellence of the works may 
indeed ensure to them at all times the admiration of a few, 
as is the case with what is left us of the works of the 
ancients ; but then in the countries where works in garden- 
ing, &c. have been executed, the very vestiges of them may 
disappear in time, and leave no traces to serve as a model 
for other nations to work by. Those of the ancients indeed 
appear to have been hardly worth it, as having had little 
connection with " general nature." The works of nature, 
the great and only models, will still remain, but the dispo- 



• From Pontey's Work on the Management of Trees, 



54 



sition and the ability to imitate them must be produced 
afresh, for we are not always disposed to copy after our 
ancestors. Such works as Mr. Pontey's and still more 
"Wheatley's Observations on Gardening, " Mason's beau- 
tiful Poem, the "English Garden," &c.) may serve to 
perpetuate the records of them, and to tell mankind that 
the imitation has once been made, and may again, from the 
natural originals that still remain. 



CXLV1II. 

In considering the beauties of nature, and their imitation 
by art, the eye is more easily satisfied than the imagination. 
We compare what we see with our own size, and the space 
we occupy. That which the imagination has to range in 
is boundless. Besides this, we consider the proportion that 
the several parts bear to each other, and the harmony of 
their forms ; for more both of sublimity and beauty depend 
upon this than on mere size. * An object, however great, 
would lose its effect upon us, if there was nothing to com- 
pare it with. What the eye can take in, it is better able 
to judge of, and loves more to dwell upon : too much great- 
ness and extent fatigue it. When it admires that, it is 
probably with a view to the increase of capacity and power 
that it will possess hereafter. 



* This I think is instanced in the Grindelwald, in Switzerland, com- 
pared with Mont Blanc and its accompaniments ; a huge, shapeless 
mountain, whose summit pierces the clouds, is more an object for the 
imagination than the eye. In the Grindelwald, there it every thing that 
can be required to form a beautiful picture. 



55 



CXLIX. 



I think we cannot suppose that the recollection of 
what has passed during our abode on this earth, or of what 
we have left behind us on it, will make any part of the en- 
joyments or sufferings of another life ; but that all will be 
absorbed in the contemplation of one great and supreme 
Object, or in the misery that will attend the privation of 
that contemplation, and the sufferings of the state opposed 
to it. The retrospective view of our misconduct in this 
life, and the repentance that it would naturally produce, 
seem more suited to the state of purgatory asserted by the 
Romish Church, without which that repentance would be 
of no avail towards the end to which it appears to lead — 
atonement. For the "just," and those who have made 
their atonement* here, the elevation which their minds must 
feel in the contemplation of the objects of nature (the 
works of its great Author) cannot but make them look for- 
ward to that far higher elevation that awaits them in 
another life, when no longer 

" Corpus onustum 
" Hesternis vitiis animam, quoque praegravatuna, 
" Atque affigit humo divinse particulam aurae." 

Or indeed without the prcegravatio?i of the "hesterna vitia." 



CL. 



There are things of which we are inclined to doubt, 
from the mere sense of the imperfection of our knowledge ; 

* Let it not be supposed that this is meant to exclude or be independent 
of the great atonement : no, one must accompany the other. 



56 



but is not this doubt to be considered as a kind of 
judgment that we form of them ? — a judgment too, 
that approaches to rejection. How does this accord 
with the sense we have above supposed to be entertained 
of the means we have of judging ? And in what state 
ought our minds to be, under that sense ? Will the nature 
of the human mind admit of its remaining in a state com- 
patible with that sense ? If not, it must incline to some 
decision, or at least opinion, concerning those things of 
which (as is said above) it feels itself incompetent to judge : 
this opinion must be formed by the best use it can make 
of the powers it possesses (removing as far as it can all im- 
pediments*) which we may well suppose are adequate to 
the judgment it is meant to form ; and for which judgment 
all the means are given that are necessary for that intended 
formation. What is wanting to make that judgment abso- 
lute, it must wait for, probably in another life, regulating 
its opinions in the mode best adapted to the purposes re- 
quired in this, and to what will best fit it for the other. 



CLI. 

In what consists perfect peace of mind ? Is it in dwell- 
ing upon any particular subject that may be most agreeable 
to us ? But that would only be a diversion of the thoughts 
from other subjects that would be less agreeable, or actu- 
ally disagreeable, and would last only till the mind became 
tired of the subject it had been dwelling upon, which must 
happen to any that would not admit of being associated 
with others, or that would exclude all others ; for the mind 
must either have all its faculties employed (and that not to 



* The impediments I mean are the passions chiefly. 



57 

a degree of exertion that would fatigue it) or it must change 
from one subject to another, that would vary the employ- 
ment of its faculties; so that its peace, its enjoyment of 
happiness, would consist in continually changing its object. 
Indeed an interval of perfect repose and suspension of all 
thought may be supposed, especially after a course of ex- 
treme labour, such as Goldoni, in his very interesting 
memoirs (which have been compared, for simplicity of 
style, to the Memoires de Grammont) tells us he felt, in 
the change from his severe and unremitted dramatic ex* 
ertions, to the delightful repose of absolutely thinking of 
nothing. 

Tranquillity must be essential to peace of mind ; but not 
a stagnant tranquillity, for that would be apathy : it must 
be a tranquillity of which the mind is sensible, and which 
perhaps must employ all its faculties to produce that sense : 
it must be a feeling of satisfaction with itself (" nil con- 
scire sibi") but without carrying that satisfaction higher 
than the nature and condition of the human mind allows; 
for true satisfaction cannot be at variance with truth : the 
fallacy, when found out, would produce the contrary sen- 
sation to peace of mind : the mind, therefore, must not 
dwell too much on itself, conscious as it must be of imper- 
fections that will be productive of solicitude and regret; or 
it must only attencTto them sufficiently to guard against the 
causes which, excite them. 

Peace of mind must be felt, and felt as a state of which 
the mind is conscious, adverting at the same time to, and 
retaining the consciousness of it, and of what constitutes 
it. The best description of the state which we have been 
trying to define is in the text, " Peace and good will to- 
wards man :" for the enjoyment must consist both of self 
and social love. What is most likely to produce this ? 
Religion : it is that alone which can confer happiness on 
all mankind, and dispose them to conduce to the happiness 



58 



of each other: temporal benefits are transient and insecure ; 
those of religion are permanent and inviolable. 

Even of these, however, the enjoyment, here on earth, is 
but an imperfect foretaste of a far higher in another life ; 
in this it is but the balm (and the only balm) to the wounds 
we are daily subject to: but all the most natural, all the 
most earnest desires of man, are such as cannot find their 
satisfaction in this life, but must look for it to another. 
How great then must be the hope of attainment ! for why 
else was that desire given to us ? Does that hope meet 
with discouragements ? Dwell upon it, seek the proper 
means of strengthening it ; and then see if those discourage- 
ments are not lessened ; if they are not entirely done away- 



CLII. 

If we do not make our common sense, with the assis- 
tance that it is capable of receiving, the means of our un- 
derstanding the degree of faith and the performance of 
good works that are required of us, as well as the connec • 
tion which those two have with each other, we shall be 
sure to bewilder our minds in the pursuit of that under- 
standing. The proper use of our common sense will teach 
us what value we are to set on our good works, and how 
far a previous faith is necessary to produce them. The 
same disposition indeed is necessary to produce both, and 
that disposition will make us feel that both can be but im- 
perfectly performed or attained by us. To attain any degree 
of faith, our reason is appealed to, and must be exercised,, 
but it can only be so in comprehending the evidence which 
has been given for the truth of mysteries which are them- 
selves totally incomprehensible by that reason, which there- 
fore cannot attain that degree of knowledge which is ne- 
cessary for its complete satisfaction. For this attainment 



59 

the Methodists refer us to another feeling which is alto- 
gether above, and I may say at variance with our reason, 
and can only be the child of our imagination, How this 
can inform or strengthen our reason, to which the Author 
of our Faith appeals for the reception of his doctrines, it is 
for the Methodists to show. In substituting another faculty, 
(if faculty it may be called) they certainly take away the 
only solid ground that faith can stand upon. But if it is a 
" gratissimus error" to them, in pity's sake let them enjoy it. 
Our Saviour, who came, as Young impressively and 
justly says, "to give lost reason life," intended that we 
should exert all our reasonable endeavors towards the at- 
tainment of faith (for which he appeals to that very reason) 
and the performance of good works, and also that we 
should have a due sense of the imperfection of both, and of 
our being "unprofitable servants." But he surely never 
intended that we should have a feeling that is above our 
natural powers,* which our reason is entirely incapable 
of comprehending, and which therefore is only cognizable 
by our imagination. If, in exhorting men to the perform- 
ance of any of their duties, they are addressed in language 
which is above the comprehension of their reason, I do not 
see what good effect can be produced : surely no effect but 
that of degrading Religion by the most unworthy abuses of 
it; which accordingly we see practised* 



CLIIL 

Habit is a second nature : with the assistance of exam- 
ple it will either vitiate or correct the Jirst, or confirm it in 
the good or bad that it has once contracted. 

* Nor does be say any thing that implies a promise to give it. 



60 



Little singularities may be indulged any where, if they 
are not offensive, and the more if we live among those 
whose feelings and conduct are of the right kind ; they will 
not be jealous of them ; those singularities will rather give 
an amusement which will flatter the vanity of the individual 
who displays them ; and his pride will be equally flattered 
by the power he has of indulging them. But the material 
parts of conduct must be adapted to the society in which 
we live. 



CLIV. 

Assurance — Confidence — how useful are they when 
well-placed. 



CLV. 



O YES, " words are things :" but may we not reverse 
this ? for is there not a reciprocity between them ? 



CLVI. 

What may we not pick up in the " broad highway of 
the world ?" 



CLV1L 



We can neither know ourselves nor be known by others, 
till we are tried, either by ourselves or by them. 



61 



CLVIII. 



How much does the value of a thought depend on the 
words in which it is expressed ! If common sense had not 
a vehicle to carry it abroad, it must always stay at home* 



CLIX. 

We sometimes attempt to avoid a disagreeable sensation 
by running into the opposite extreme to it. This is 
" incidit in Syllam qui vult vitare Charybdim." Such ex- 
pedients make life a continual see-saw, and an Irishman 
might say that a man canted himself up and down by sit- 
ting at both ends of the plank. 



CLX. 



We are such paradoxes, that we sometimes assume an 
air and tone of confidence, to disguise a real timidity and 
irresolution of character. A man may put on a bold face 
to the world, till he persuades himself that he is as bold 
within as he appears to be without. 



CLXL 



"Words are things;" so clothe an old thing in new 

words. Whether I do this or not, or whether both my 

things and words (i. e. sentences) are " as old as the hills," 
upon my word, my good reader, I cannot tell. 



62 



CLXIL 



A physician can only assist nature ; if she wants that 
assistance, the less the patient gives her to do, the more 
chance she will have of recovering her own powers. 



CLXlll. 

One thing in favor of maxim-makers is, that men are 
continually in want of being reminded of useful truths ; they 
must be told by others what a moment's reflection would 
tell them of itself. 



CLX1V. 

" God loves from whole to parts," says Pope. We may 
say, in the same spirit, that his influence extends to every, 
part of men's thoughts and actions, without being imme- 
diately applied to any particular instance of their exercise. 



CLXV. 

One prevalent idea in the mind, though it may not al- 
ways be present to it, generally forms the character, and 
regulates the deportment. Or shall we take the converse 
of the proposition ? Do we know enough of the human 
mind to say which is cause and which effect ? Suffice it, 
that they go both together. 



(33 



CLXVI. 



Agitation of mind (so often indicated by that of the 
person) must be produced by concurring or contending; 
thoughts. Horace would hardly have " scratched his 
head" or " bit his nails to the quick," at the suggestion* 
of a simple idea. 



CLXVII. 

Our reason is so little able to inform us of what we 
have to expect (I mean in the events of this world) that we 
are obliged to have recourse to our passions (as hope, fear y 
&c.) to help it. 



CLXV1II. 

It seems somewhat extraordinary, that we should not 
be capable of imagining what we are capable of understan- 
ding. Is it from a want of activity in the mind ? or of a 
proper direction of its activity ? Or must we not rather, 
with our very limited knowledge of the theory of the human 
mind, resolve this and other talents into what St. Paul 
says they are — " gifts ?" The " gros bon sens" of the 
common people often expresses this. 



CLXIX. 

The power of thought is not so much shewn in conceiv- 
ing ideas, as in combining them. 



64 



CLXX. 



There is perhaps more of instinct in our feelings thai* 
we are aware of, even in our esteem of each other. 



CLXXI. 

Chusing what conduct we are to pursue is ehusing 
what examples we are to follow : much of this will depend 
upon our earliest associations. 



CLXXII. 



If Hypocrisy is the semblance, the " outward sign" of 
virtue (however " false and hollow" all may be " within") 
it recommends itself by what it appears to be, not by what 
it really is. So far therefore it favors the cause of virtue, 
instead of " cutting its throat," as Rousseau says it does ; 
and the only mischief it does is in deceiving its admirers. 
Would Rousseau's pride deprive the Almighty of his sole 
right of judging hypocrites? or is that the only trial \/e 
are not to submit to ? But Rousseau is not the only cynic 
whose spleen has blinded his judgment. 



CLXX1II. 

Our estimate of what is worth our attention or not, will 
depend a good deal on what we are or are not used to. 



65 



CLXXIV. 

What power shall we not assign to habit? But it 
must have a beginning. 



CLXXV. 

The consciousness of possessing a talent should beget in 
us an equal sense of the power from whom we have received 
it, and "into whose hands," along with "our spirits," we 
" commend" it. Without this sense, we can neither be 
sure of using it properly, nor perhaps of using it at all. 



CLXXVI. 

Publishing our thoughts in a book is no more than 
communicating to the world what people often do in con- 
versation with each other ; that of reasonable and thinking 
people may often furnish matter for it, if they have a turn 
and inclination (for on what else does the exercise of 
ability depend ?) to put it to that use. The only difference 
perhaps is, that retirement in the closet gives opportunity 
for improvement and correction. It would be well if ex- 
tempore preachers would consider this. 

" Can you read and write ?" said a Magistrate to an 
itinerant preacher who had applied for a license. " No, 
Sir, I cannot," was the answer. " Then how can you 
think yourself qualified to instruct others by preaching T> 
" If you do not know what inspiration is, 1 do. There's 
my shilling — give me my license." 

K 



66 



CLXXVI1. 



The power in the human mind of conversing with others, 
and with itself, are equally extraordinary, and may be 
equally useful. 



CLXXVIII. 

A thing (perhaps indeed almost every thing) may 
appear to us to be either important or trifling, accord- 
ing to the light in which we view it, and the objects 
with which we connect it. In the affairs of men, there are 
things that are of more or less importance, as being con- 
nected with their general habits and what forms their cha- 
racters, and consequently will determine their expectations 
both in this world and the next. But we are such inade- 
quate judges of the importance of things, that we are apt 
to make what are certainly comparative trifles (such as 
personal vanity, &c.) of real consequence to us. This in- 
deed more affects our intellectual than our moral credit. 
As man is a mixed being, it is only the great and leading 
features of his mind that determine his character ; and even 
these may have their alloys and atonements. 

We should be equally careful of what we set a value 
upon ourselves, and of the estimate we make of the virtues 
or vices that we observe in others. 

CLXXIX. 

In this age of social intercourse and frequent conversa- 
tion, (such as it is) which has almost superseded all other 



67 

resources for the employment of time, Sir Walter Scott's 
novels, and those of his school, are admirably fitted to the 
taste of the times they are wrote in. They form not only 
a subject, but also a model for our conversations. As the 
works of a man of genius, they are certainly calculated to 
improve them, if the imitation is not carried too far ; and 
it will at least be happy, if they make us talk away any of 
our mischievous habits or propensities. 



CLXXX. 

The judgment of the world is the more to be depended 
upon, as it knows when to give credit, and when to make 
allowances. But we often do more of both to ourselves 
than the world will do for us ; and therefore we blame it. 
The judgment of the world is the opinion of a multitude of 
counsellors, corrected by a few. 



CLXXXI. 

God has availed himself, as we may find in the Scrip- 
tures, of the infirmities, and even the vices of men, to pro- 
duce his own ends, and to draw that good out of evil which 
he alone is ahle to do. 



CLXXXII. 

If a man is able to think at all, his thoughts must be 
more or less worth recording. Every thinker should there- 
fore have a common place book ; his " tablets," to " set 
down" what he may think " meet." 



68 



CLXXXIII. 

The necessity of mixing " the wisdom of the serpent 
with the innocence of the dove," in all the transactions of 
this world, is so great, and the obligations to follow that 
precept are so indispensable, that it must often make ns at 
a loss which to be guided by, the impulses of our zeal, or 
the admonitions of our prudence, or how to follow exactly 
that line of duty, which seems to be in keeping a due 
medium between the two extremes. In doing this indeed, 
we appear to be left in a great measure to our own discre- 
tion, regulated as that must be by the dictates of our judg- 
ment, and (perhaps equally at least) by the bent of our 
inclination ; and in the exercise of our free will, influenced 
and guided as it necessarily is by these assistants (if they 
may be called so) lies our responsibility. 



CLXXXIV. 

How often is the disbelief or contempt of a thing made 
the resource against taking the trouble, or acknowledging 
the want of power, to examine it. " The man talked non- 
sense," or "told a falsehood," is no uncommon reply to a 
communication of what has been heard from another. In- 
credulity is, as we think, a security from imposition, or 
being taken by surprise. It also itself imposes by the 
appearance of knowledge, or at least of caution that it 
gives. A man however may be made the dupe of it. 



CLXXXV, 

A feeling of good will towards, a feeling of connection 



69 



■with the rest of mankind, meet them where and when we 
may, animates, expands, and elevates the mind : but no 
dependence upon them ;* none but upon ourselves ; if any 
upon any other human being, all the feelings will be sunk 
in one common degradation ; or noue but sour and un- 
worthy ones will be left to us. 

The " human face" is indeed " divine," when it ex- 
presses the feelings that are worthy of man's nature ; no 
matter whether there is beauty of feature or not; the ex- 
pression is all that is required. 



CLXXXVI. 

What men take for, or at least assert to be, the dic- 
tates of their conscience, may often, in fact, be only the 
dictates of their pride. If a sectarian should be required 
to give a full explanation of the system which he prefers to 
the established one of bis country, he might be strangely 
puzzled, unless indeed he was allowed to confine himself 
to objections to the latter ; for in religion, as well as poli- 
tics, it is much easier to oppose than to propose. Is it 
then the spirit of opposition that makes men so conscien- 
tious ?f 



* I mean, when our circumstances place us above the necessity of it : 
the subservience then must be voluntarily sought for and incurred : if the 
circumstances we are placed in, or any other cause makes it necessary to 
us, thtn the sense of duty, or our personal attachment to a worthy object 
will be sufficient to save us from degradation; and more than that, it will 
enoble our attachments. 

t I would not be supposed to reprobate all opposition ; but only to 
maintain that there should be good grounds for it, and that men should 
have something worth offering in lieu of what they oppose ; which those 
grounds would surely afford them. If they neglect this, I think it will be 
their passions, and not their reason, that they will follow. 



70 



CLXXXVI1. 

Voltaire somewhere says, that the argument in favor 
of the soul's immortality, drawn from the change of a cater- 
pillar into a butterfly " est aussi leger que les ailes meme 
du papillon." But is not Voltaire's reasoning still lighter? 
For the argument is not founded upon any supposed simi- 
larity between the modes in which the different changes 
(of a reptile into a fly, and a body into a spirit) are effected ; 
but upon the fair and reasonable inference, that fhe same 
power which has ordained one, is equally able to ordain 
the other. The human being who walks upon two legs, 
And the insect which creeps upon many, are alike incapa- 
ble of conceiving by what mode the different changes in 
their forms and natures will be effected ; and could they 
conceive this, they would be less fitted for their present 
state ; less formed to answer the purpose of a benevolent 
Providence, that all its creatures shall have their share of 
content and happiness in the state they are in at present, 
whether that state is to be succeeded by a' greater share 
of it in another or not. If, with this share of happiness, 
there is in man a sense of his capacity for the enjoyment 
of still greater and more unmixed, and a desire also of 
attaining it, is not the benevolence of God as much impli- 
cated (if I may so express myself) in the fulfilment of that 
desire, as in the bestowal of the imperfect state of happi- 
ness which, after all, does but awaken a desire to attain 
still greater ? — a desire that is as much implanted in our 
nature, as are the best dispositions to make the most of 
the means of happiness that are given to us in our present 
state. This desire then is not discontent, is not ingrati- 
tude ; it is a well-founded confidence in the justice, truth, 
and benevolence, of the Almighty Being who has im- 
planted it in us. 



71 

Voltaire reasons somewhat better in his poem on the 
earthquake of Lisbon. In endeavoring to account for the 
existence of evil upon the earth, he supposes (as others 
have done) that either the plans of the Creator have been 
formed and inflexibly adhered to, upon principles inde- 
pendent of, and inexplicable by any notions that we can 
entertain of the divine attributes, or any expectation that 
those notions can raise in our minds ; or, secondly, that 
matter itself is incapable of a greater degree of perfection 
than its Creator has given to it (which, by the bye, seems 
to suppose a sort of pre-existence, and that independent, 
too, of matter, or at least of its principles,) or, thirdly, that 
this life is a state of trial ; that 

" Dieu nous eprouve, et ce sejour mortel 

" West qu'un passage etroit a un monde eternel." 

But to this he adds — 

" Mais quand nous sortirons de ce passage affreux, 
" Qui de nous pretendra meriter d'etre heureux" ? 

As if the designs of a bountiful Providence were to be 
regulated by the merit of its creatures ; or as if there were 
any higher obligation upon it than the exercise of its su- 
preme will and pleasure ! or as if any merit can be 
pleaded by the creature with the Creator; or lastly, as if 
there can be any mutuality of obligation between what is 
finite and imperfect, and what is perfect and infinite ! Vol- 
taire ends his poem by an addition to the *' Caliph's" dying 
address to his Maker : 

" Je t'apporte, O seul Roi, seul Etre illimit6, 

" Tout ce que tu n'as point dans ton immensite ; 

*' Les maux, les douleurs, les regrets, l'ignorance; 

" Mais(saysthe poet)il pouvoit encore ajouter Vesperance'" 

This hope, which the poet leaves at the conclusion, 



72 



Rousseau justly enough observes, that he has said every 
thing to weaken in the preceding part of his poem. From 
some of the reasoning in it, however, I should be inclined 
to say, that Voltaire ought to have been a Christian. But, 
O Vanity, and bad example I 



CLXXXVIII. 

" Pastillos Rufillus olet, Gorgonius hircum." 

Horace's satire might perhaps induce <e Gorgonius" 
to borrow some of " Rufillus's" Pastilles, which may also 
be done by some of the Gorgonii of our times ; but 
it would be better if they would manage their persons 
and their conduct (which they might very well do) so 
as not to stand in need of these counteracting odours; 
their minds, as well as their bodies, would probably 
be the better for it ; for, as the homely proverb says, " Clean- 
liness and godliness go together :" that is, one virtue in- 
duces another, or rather leads to the sum and support of 
all the virtues, Religion. 



CLXXXIX. 

Half of our lives are spent in finding out wants before 
we have felt them. Should we not be better employed in 
supplying the real wants of others? The transfer would 
be a pleasing one, and would be returned to us with 
interest. But the occasions must present themselves ; 
they must be 

tl oculis subjecta fidelibus," 

or they may be " demissa per aures." 



73 



We may indeed go out of our way in search of them ; 
but then we must have a direction; and are there not 
many? 

If all, however, were employed in supplying their own 
wants, there would be fewer in need of the assistance of 
others. But even idleness itself may have its excuses, 
though the allowance of these should be very limited. 
Example and encouragement may perhaps be among them, 
and it may not be easy to ascertain the bounds of Charity. 



cxc. 

The longing after a future good (or what we esteem 
such) is not always the anticipation of future happiness 
in the enjoyment of it. There may have been persons, 
whose minds have been engrossed by the desire of pos- 
sessing the property of those of whom they were considered 
as the heirs. When the time of possession arrived, were 
they the happier for it ? Perhaps not : they may have then 
asked themselves that question : and the self-answer may 
have been, " No, we are not; we have purchased it too 
dearly ; we find now th t we want the society of those 
whom we have lost."* 



CXCI. 

A thinking man is something like Johnson's " Ras- 
selas in the happy valley," who, when he had given vent 



* H<m far these tardy feelings may be expected, I know not ; for 
some hearts are as much hardened by the expectation of riches as they 
could be by the possession of them. 

L 



74 



to his discontented feelings, consoled and congratulated 
himself with the eloquence with which he had expressed 
them. The mind will find its own resources, if it is left 
to its proper action. 



CXC1I. 

Angels.— The authority of the Scriptures is very suffi- 
cient of itself to vouch for the existence of these celestial 
beings; and can we, at any rate, suppose that in the 
great scale of nature, graduated as we see it is, there are 
none between us and the Supreme ? 



CXCIII. 

The proper sense of the commandment, " Do unto 
others as you would that they should do unto you," I be- 
lieve is, Do unto others what you would think it right 
they should do unto you. 

" Love your enemies," as your enemies, but not as 
enemies to the good that may be in you. 

" Return good for evil," but not as approving, nor as 
being indifferent towards that evil, but as separating the 
evil from the person of him who commits it ; disapproving 
the one, but not condemning the other. 



CXCIV. 

In Mr. Irving's sermon, preached at the Caledonian 
chapel in Hatton Garden, June 13th, 1824, partly extem- 
pore, partly from a MS. book, which he occasionally 



75 

glanced his eye over, there was some repetition, but more 
of ideas than words — verbose, however, enough, with 
much metaphor, and diffuse — much unnecessary detail and 
explanation— display of oratory, but with great show of 
feeling, and the most forcible (indeed overpowering) ap- 
peals to it— the highest animation and force— and line de- 
scription — no fanaticism, but much charity and liberality 
— Calvinism ingeniously and well argued against in the 
first part of the sermon, afterwards stated as being suited 
to a strict and zealous age, and Jrminianism to a loose one 
— but both as capable of being retained (as, with restric- 
tions, they no doubt are) — much gesture, but varied and 
appropriate — manner and delivery extremely forcible and 
impressive — text from St. Paul's epistle, " a chosen gene- 
ration, a royal priesthood, a peculiar people," &c. — TJn- 
changeableness of God dwelt on in religion, as in the 
physical world — its effects on the mind of man, in insu- 
ring its dependence and confidence, our expectation of the 
future resulting from our experience of the past, and in reli- 
gion from our knowledge of the will of God, as declared 
in the Scriptures — 

" A new light, breathed by Christ into our souls." 
(This I believe, is the best and only proper sense in which 
the expression " new light" can be used.) 

"An infinite Being must have infinite regards : taking 
from them is lessening his nature." 

*' If confidence does not increase, it must give way to 
suspicion." (Truth also in this.) 

Prayers before and after the sermon, long, but good. 
The English Church prayed for. 



cxcv. 

The generality, the contractedness, and at the same 



76 

time the sufficiency of common sense, is shewn in the wan- 
dering from (perhaps " ut lucus a non lucendo," for a thing 
may be shewn by its negative), and losing sight of it, from 
soaring too high. Necessary information is pretty obvious 
— if too much sought for, it may become superfluous* or 
unintelligible. The sphere of common sense is not a very 
extended one. 



■" See how little the remaining sum 



That served the past, and must the times to come." 
The rest are 

*t Tricks to shew the stretch of human braiu." 

Too much eloquence non raro " nimium probat." 

Feeling and intellect may both be lost in the multitude 
of words (what pith can they have in them ?) More ideas 
may be given than information. However, what draws 
attention, if seriously given, must incline to seriousness. 



CXCVI. 

"The practice of Duelling, to the disgrace of a Chris- 
tian society, has long been suffered to exist with little 
restraint or opposition." — From Wilber forces Practical 
View" &c. page 219, 2d. edit. 8vo. 

If this practice was abolished, the object of M worldly 
estimation" would be changed ; for the latter would most 
probably be in favour of what was generally practised ; 
and there would no longer be a choice to be made between 
" the favor of God and the favor of man," as between two 
opposites ; for it can hardly be supposed that the practice 
and the estimation of the world would be at variance with 
each other. In this instance, then, the world would not 
be of the description given of it in Scripture ; and the 



77 

"Prince" of it would have lost his "power." Can we 
hope that such a change will be brought about ? If it 
could, the interests of society would in all probability be 
benefitted by it ; at least if we consider the pursuit oi recti* 
tude as being favourable to them. 

I cannot see how the "refinement and courtesy" of 
society can be carried to their greatest height, even in its 
" more contracted sphere," by the practice of duelling, and 
the laws of honour which sanction and sometimes require it, 
"What concessions must we make to existing customs? 
Surely an age would be more refined and courteous (if re- 
finement and courtesy are of the nature of virtues) in which 
a savage practice was not in use. 

Human prudence (or timidity) must not restrain the 
efforts of zeal ; but it may, and must regulate the mode 
in which they are made. What merit or satisfaction shall 
we have in defeating our own ends ? And cannot we judge 
of what will do it ? Non solum " animae nostra?," sedetiam 
alioium animae " liberandae" sunt. 

" Be ye perfect, even as," &c. may perhaps be applied 
to the world collectively, as to individuals separately; 

but is not struggling with the what shall we call 

them? prejudices? inherences of the world, 

" kicking against the pricks ?" 

O ! do not oppose the sacred text to this, Unless we 
can more fully understand and apply it. 



CXCV1L 

There are two ways (amongst others) of being meta- 
physical; 1 mean of drawing metaphysical conclusions; 
one is, by the misuse of reason ; the other, by the abandon- 
ment of it. Philosophers are apt to do the one, and 
enthusiasts the other. 



78 



cxcvm, 

The most useful knowledge is in combining and compar- 
ing ideas. For how else are we to form our opinions ? 

To reason deeply, we must reason clearly. Dr. John- 
son's idea (applied by him to Pope) that " all shallows are 
clear," (it was to a lady that I think lie said it) was not in 
my opinion a very just one. Mud may easily be stirred up, 
without going very deep for it. 

Pour elever les idees, il faut les apprqfondir* 



CXC1X. 



The possession of power, and the fear of losing it by 
any compromise with the principles of liberty, f (which 
should be well defined and modified — not " radical") can 
have but one effect upon the human mind. I do not mean 
that of making men tyrants, but certainly that of preventing 
their gaining, or deserving, the love of their subjects. 

If power can have any solid foundation, it must be in 
public opinion (or acquiescence, if we please :) and this 
must be the result of concurrent principles : when they 
have a separate or partial influence on the public mind, 
the effect must be more or less mutable and precarious. N 



* We want a word for this in our language. Will approfound do ? 
Fathom, I think, but poorly expresses if. 

t Perhaps the word liberty cannot be better denned than by making it 
synonymous with justict. 



79 



CC. 



The more men really know, the more they will agree 
together : it is ignorance that breeds disputes and discord. 
But this real knowledge must first be attained ; and per- 
haps the giving and receiving it may both be difficult. 
Without it they never can understand one another ; and 
misunderstanding, as I have said before, is quarrelling. 



CCI. 



Ideas should neither be too obvious, nor too far fetched: 
if the former, they are hardly worth the trouble of stating. 
It is a bad compliment to a man's understanding to tell him 
that two and two make four ; nor will he be much in- 
structed or amused by being puzzled. Why should we 
take a long journey, to bring nothing home after all ? 



ecu. 



Lawyers and physicians are generally held to be 
sceptics : and it is no wonder, as they deal so much in 
doubtful cases ; considering them too, as they commonly 
do, on the worst side. And as to feeling, they have little 
to do with that, except it is to feel, the one the pockets, 
the other the pulses, of their clients and patients. 



80 



CLXV. 

Salisbury Arms Inn, Hatfield, June 16, 1824. 

Saw Hatfield-House, a place where there is as much 
human grandeur, human antiquity, human respectability, 
and natural beauty (except in the water, of which it is 
to be regretted that there is not a better piece) as can well 
be in the residence of a subject and a British Nobleman, and 
how interesting to British feelings ! much more so, indeed, 
than the sister seat of the Cecils, Burleigh, where the park 
scenery is more extensive and more finely wooded, but where 
the house, though imposing as a whole, is yet frittered into 
parts that make it much inferior to the simple, and I may 
say unpretending dignity of Hatfield-House, the charac- 
ter of which has been well preserved in the repairs and 
alterations that have been made. Burleigh, I believe, has 
undergone none. The inside of the latter, though possess- 
ing some good pictures, and beautiful carvings in wood by 
Gibbons, contains much fewer relics that connect it with 
the history of our country, there being many interesting 
portraits, &c. in Hatfield-House. The environs of the 
two places admit of still less comparison with each other. 
Were 1 put to my choice, 1 should not hesitate between 
them ; nor (let me add) would 1 give up thee, O Swinton 
Park, near as thou art to the Western moor-lands of the 
vale of York, and distant (no worse for that) from the 
Capital, and humble in comparison with the places 1 ha\e 
been describing : I would not give thee up for either of 
them. 



CC1V. 

Life wears itself out, and the stream of time only leads 



81 

to the ocean of eternity. I much doubt whether it is good 
policy in man to wish to add to what he is generally ao 
little prepared (however he may, " in all the magnanimity 
of thought," have "resolved and re-resolved") to answer 
for the use he has made of it. Man may be said to be, for 
a while, God's delegate in the use of time : that of 
eternity, the " Inhabitant august" of it reserves, we may 
presume, entirely to himself. 



ccv. 

Horace's " vitium fugere" resolves itself into vitium 
non petere, for vice seldom throws itself in a man's way, 
unless he seeks for it. Virtue, too, as well as vice, must 
be sought for. But how little merit can we assume to our- 
selves, when we have so little share in chalking out the 
path we take ! O favored then of God, when even the 
means of acquiring his favor are not thine own ! God 
gives the temptation to be resisted, and the strength to 
resist it. What then is left for man to do? To "walk 
humbly" with his maker; and well may we give " glory to 
God," when nothing is our own, not even the free agency 
that we are responsible for the use of. Is it fate, then, 
that binds us ? No, we have a choice left to us. But what 
determines that choice ? No matter ; our responsibility 
depends upon the measure of it that is meted out to us. 
We are then conscious agents, unconscious as we maybe of 
the springs of our agency. To be " cleansed" from our 
" secret faults," one thing is required of us — humility. O 
worm, how well is that fitted for thee ! 

Ah ! " video meliora proboque ; 
Deteriora sequor." 

Strive then, strive ; and let your efforts be prepared by 
reflection. 

M 



82 



CCVI. 

Pleasure should be rather an effect than a cause - y 
rather the result of an action, than an inducement to it. 
If the motive is of a higher kind, pleasure will follow of 
course. 



CCV1I. 

I THANK thee, O Lord, from the bottom of my heart I 
thank thee ! for what have not I (and may 1 not say we 
all?) to thank thee for? 



CCV1II. 



The highest human enjoyments awaken in a feeling 
mind the anxious thought, will not this be accounted as 
sufficient for me? and will it not be said to me, "Verily 
thou hast had thy reward V How well calculated this is 
at once to check and to raise exultation! to raise it to 
that pitch at which it ought to be ! For what are the real 
enjoyments which religion has not a share in producing ? 



CCIX. 

Every thing* gives pleasure to a mind capable of feeling 
it. The delightful feelings of the mind are often awakened^ 
'tis true, in our present state ; but in what state will they 



» I mean however trifling. 



83 

be (to use a homely expression) broad awake ? In what 
state shall we drink of that full cup, of which we here do 
but taste the sweets ? 



ccx. 

The forms of nature are often beautiful ; but what 
would they be without the clothing of wood and verdure, 
such as it is in Hertfordshire? In the natural world the 
beauty is exterior ; the moral beauty is all within. 



CCXI. 

We travel from inn to inn ; and what else is there in 
life? for all human dwellings, however delightful, however 
magnificent, " offer but the changes of a caravanserai 
True, Derveish, they do so ; but there is a dwelling of the 
mind, even here, that is more Jixed. 



CCXII. 

My dear countrymen, why are you always running away 
from yourselves? for that is what a Frenchman justly re- 
proaches you with, when he sees you scampering full gallop, 
or" escamotentles fesses,"* (as M. de Cazales humorously 
called it> on horseback, or rattling away in a chaise and 
four, at the desperate rate (which some would call creeping) 
of twelve miles an hour, as if your lives depended on your 
arrival at a given moment at your houses in town or in the 
country, where you are stupified with ennui, from not 



Rising in the stirrups. 



84 



knowing what to do with yourselves the remainder of the 
day of your arrival. Is not life itself a journey? and can 
you really enjoy any part of it when you have so little en- 
joyment of that continual change of scene (varied, however 
often we may have seen it) with which nature would fain 
gratify you, if you would allow her ? O ! let me not talk to 
the winds, or to beings lighter and emptier than they are ! 



ccxm. 

There is a hollowness of sound which in the calm of a 
summer's day is as pleasing to the ear as that of visible 
forms to the eye. Such is the sound of the horses' feet on 
the road, that now meets my ear. When carried to a cer- 
tain degree, it gives the idea of smoothness, firmness, and 
elasticity, as the other does of softness, undulation, variety, 
and harmony : carried too far, they both present the idea 
of harshness, discordance, confusion, and sometimes of 
danger. 



CCXIV. 

It is want of action in the mind, such at least as suits 
it (I mean a rational mind) that creates restlessness in 
the body. 



ccxv. 



Contrast and change, though it may not be for the 
better, is generally agreeable : so varied are our enjoyments, 



85 



and so disinclined are we to dwell long on the same object. 
But those of religion, though uniform are always pleasing. 
Is it not that we are born for another state than that we 
are now in ? 



CCXVJ. 

Nothing does our countrymen less credit than the 
insolence of their demeanor towards foreigners : it is 
wholly unworthy of the good sense and liberality that are 
attributed to them, and so far from being characteristic 
of a gentleman, if any thing makes us deserve to be called 
f? a nation of shopkeepers," it is that. Indeed those are 
most apt to show it who are just come from behind a 
counter. Goldsmith might say, 

" Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, 
" I see the lords of human kind pass by." 

And Johnson might talk of the pride it made him feel, as 
an Englishman. But these are not the sentiments either 
of a gentleman or a christian. 



CCXVII. 

When men fatten up hogs, oxen, &c. (which, by the 
bye those " Lords of human kind" are fond enough of 
doing) like one in a print now hanging before me in this 
illustrious inn at Biggleswade (a very good one, pour le 
dire en passant,) I am almost tempted to say of my fellow 
creatures, that they are greater beasts than those they 
make. 



86 



OCX VIII. 

How satisfied do the good people of Bedfordshire 
appear to be with the rich flat they live in ! They envy 
not, not they, the beautiful variety of Hertfordshire, 
its woods, luxuriant foliage, &c. surrounded as they are 
with their meadows, their crops of corn, onions, beans, 
rape, &c. O, 'tis from hence that the fat oxen must have 
come, for I see all their feeders have the same make. 

A hanging flat (if 1 may so call an inclined plain) is al- 
most as bad as what is called a dead flat ; nay, it is worse, 
for it forces the eye to dwell upon it, tame, and unin- 
teresting as it is. O Bedfordshire, thy corn-fields may 
" laugh and sing," but the sadness of thy willows, and the 
pools they overhang, are very infectious ! The neatness of 
the cottages, however, their gardens, &c. atone for the 
want of beauty in the country they are placed in. Men 
are then just to themselves, as Providence is to them. 
The trees (from where 1 now look at them) are all compa- 
ratively poor; is it that such a flat does not want the 
shelter they would afford ? O no, a prostrate and naked 
oak tells me what has thinned them. But here are the 
woods of Southoe, &c. and the plantations of Brampton 
too. -Aye, these make sufficient amends. 

Is it the sea that has given this " fatness" to the land that 
it once overflowed ? or is the Ouse the relic of an ancient 
Nile ? Probably the former, for its deposits would be more 
easily made on a flat, than on a hill side. 



CCX1X. 

Are not the transports into which we are sometime* 



87 



thrown by the contemplation of sublime objects, or the 
strong excitement of our affections, proofs of the unfilled 
capacity of our minds ? So you may say (perhaps the 
answer will be) of the transports evinced by animals, in 
their motions, the sounds they utter, &c. Yes, but are 
their's accompanied by mind? And can we go higher than 
mind, in our ideas of spirituality ? 



ccxx. 

The eye sees hardly a form in nature that does not 
suggest some beautiful analogy, some kindred feeling? 
some pleasing recollection, some subject of imitation, 
some part of a whole which may be so combined as to 
form a picture or a real scene of nature. How much is 
added to the beauty of these by the various tints and 
colours, lights and shades, either belonging to the objects 
themselves, or given to them by the ever-changing state of 
the atmosphere, as the shifting clouds " imbibe" or give 
way to " the rising or the setting sun's effulgence," when 
the beams of the morning open, or the shades of evening 
close the scene ; close it, not on the wearied eye, but as 
giving a short intermission to the pleasure it has been 
enjoying, to add fresh pleasure to it on each succeeding 
day. Delightful are the enjoyments that are thus con- 
tinued, with a variety that never cloys, and that nature 
alone can give. 



CCXXI. 

The pure, the simple, the rational enjoyment of raao, 



88 



seems to be one great end in the Creation : and if man 
finds so much to admire in the works of the Creator, how 
much more must those beings find, who can under- 
stand them better than he ! Increase of knowledge must 
be increase of admiration. 



CCXXII. 

The rooks that 1 see dispersed over the ploughed 
land must, 1 think, be more in search of insects (the 
cockchafer-grub particularly) than of any seed that may 
have been sown ; for the former must probably be to them 
more palatable food than the latter, and it is more con- 
sistent with the general economy of nature, and with the 
benevolent purposes of its Author (in favor of man espe- 
cially,) that such a production as grain, which is useful 
for many purposes, and which costs considerable labour 
in producing (being in great measure the produce of art,) 
should be spared, at the expence of one which is common 
with other productions of nature, and which exists chiefly 
for the maintenance of its own species, and to be the 
prey of other animals, such as the rooks that are now 
feeding upon it. Let then this useful bird be spared, and 
let it rather be the object of man's gratitude than of his 
enmity. 

Many indeed aje the vulgar errors (and t fear that the 
term of vulgar may be applied to many who ought to be 
above it) that subsist relatively to the properties and 
habits of the animal creation. The hedge-hog, the com- 
mon snake, the lizard (commonly called newt or eft) have 
all been reckoned as noxious or venomous, though in fact 
they are all innocent. -Nay even that beautiful little 
bird, the Creeper (Ccrthia Europcea) has been singled out 



m 

as the object of a persecution that one would hardly sup- 
pose any imagination, however assisted by folly or ca- 
price, could have suggested. When will men learn to unite 
common sense with common observation ? One would be 
inclined to suppose that it is either cruelty or fear, or the 
reciprocal influence of both, that governs their treatment 
of the animals over whom their power extends. 



CCXXIII. 

Our lives begin and end (if our feelings and tastes re- 
main unvitiated) with the love of nature ; and every other 
feeling has its source in that. With what pleasure do we, 
as life advances, return to the enjoyments of our child- 
hood, with a higher sense of them, and better understand- 
ing of their value, than we could then have ! Will not 
this make some part of the preparation for the life that is 
to follow ? 



CCXXIV, 

All is cause and effect in nature ; all is position and con^ 
sequence in reasoning ; for as one thought brings on another, 
one may be said to be the consequence of the other. The 
intermediate links of the chain may indeed be many, as 
analogies are often far-fetched ; but if the connection, how- 
ever distant it may be, is a real one, they cannot be said 
to be merely imaginary. And in what is similitude 
founded ? How are ideas associated ? Nothing positively 
new can be invented i all is combination : would th© 
combination present itself to the mind unless there wer© 

some grounds for it? L 

If 



90 



ccxxv. 

1 SHOULD like to know what opinion Physicians have of 
Alteratives, Their supposed effect on the constitution must 
be produced in some way or other by all remedies, for 
the most active must have a remote, as well as an im- 
mediate effect upon the human frame. That of all alter- 
atives^ whether given in the shape of pills, lozenges, &c. 
may be produced by other causes than those to which it 
is ascribed, so that the recommenders of those nostrums 
can give no proof of their real efficacy ; part of which may, 
and I should think must be owing to the rules and habits 
we observe while taking them, and this may be assisted 
by the "crede quod habes ethabes." Unfortunately our 
luxurious habits of life, &c. make the application of 
stronger remedies, even poisons, but too necessary, and how 
far this may produce the moral and physical vitiation of 
this and succeeding generations, is hard to say ; however, 
the present state of society, in many respects, presents a 
more encouraging prospect. 

N. B. This ought to have been after No. 16'2. 



CCXXVI. 

I have said before, that distant analogies are deserving 
of some respect, when the nature of the subject in question, 
and the circumstances attending it, forbid a nearer approach, 
or a closer similitude.* But some minds are sensible of a 



• The radiations of truth are very extensive ; may we compare the 
light they throw with that which emanates from our sun T and the dis- 
coveriei they give rise to, with those of the most distant planets ? 



91 



lighter touch than others. Surely we do not always 
require to have truth "beat into us!" May we not meet 
it half way ? 



CCXXVI1. 

How often does attachment to one thing produce aver- 
sion to another, merely because our little minds cannot do 
equal justice to two objects, small as may be the difference 
between them. Our reasoning partially may arise from the 
partiality of our attachments, as well as from our limited 
powers of reasoning. 



CCXXV11L 

If it is true that every man is an epitome of all mankind, 
to know others we should begin with the knowledge of 
ourselves ; and perhaps, as a final reference, end with it. 
put what mere amplification are these of that simple, im- 
portant, and old established truth,* rvw^i amvroy ! 



CCXXIX, 

In natural scenery the dress is often the work of man, 
but the character should be in nature, and the dress should 
he suited to the character. The " genius of the place" 
should be consulted in all. 



* A maxim founded in truth, is truth ititlf, 



9% 



ccxxx. 

How do objects lose their effect by becoming familiar 
to us ! What can be more beautiful than a stately tree, 
with its spreading arms, and its rich and luxuriant foliage ? 
By repeated observation we cease to look upon it with the 
admiration it deserves, and we regard it onlv en masse, or 
as making part of a landscape ; but what can escape this 
indifference, when it is felt, in beholding (as Lucretius 
observes) ** cceli clarum purumque colorem ? Nay, even 
the multitude of brilliant lights that bespangle this rich 
canopy ! The mind then must be awakened to consider 
what they appear, and what they really are ; and what, 
without mind, should we be, above the beasts of the field ? 
What are we, when we do not make the proper use of the 
mind we possess ? 



ccxxxi. 

Although private prayer, in our own chambers, where 
none are present except God and ourselves, is in some res- 
pects preferable to that in a Church amongst a numerous 
congregation, yet I think that the medium between them, a 
private chapel, in which there are only the family and a few 
tenants and dependents assembled, is by no means desirable. 
If the example of persons of rank and fortune is likely, as 
surely it is, to have any influence over others, the more 
extensive that influence is in so good a cause as the diffu- 
sion of religious feeling, the better. Besides, it must be 
gratifying to a feeling mind to be associated with so many 
others in their " common supplications" to the throne of 
grace, in a place where all may be considered as on ari 



93 



«qual footing ? or if unequal, only rendered so by the dif- 
ferent degrees of warmth and sincerity with which their 
prayers are addressed : and where the suggestions of pride, 
in being looked up to by servants and dependents, are less 
likely to take place. The more these are sunk in the par- 
ticipation of one common sentiment, the nearer will be the 
approach to that communion of souls, when all will join in 
one common act of adoration to their great Creator. 

Distinctions, and "respect of persons," in a cause iu 
which all except the good and bad, are certainly on a 
level, are surely, to say the very least, mistaken ones. 
Worldly distinctions there must necessarily be ; but they 
all should be subordinate and have a decided reference 
to that great concern in which we all have an equal share. 



CCXXXII. 

If in a disputed case, too much attention is paid, too 
much redress given, and I might almost say too much 
justice done to one side, it is ten to one but the oppo- 
site side will have been injured, and injustice done to 
it ;* for justice should be " even handed ." This seems to be 
instanced in the case of the Missionary Smith, now before 
the House of Commons, 1 mean the arguments of the 
opposition members in favor of the memory of Mr. Smith, 
in which, indeed, Mr. Canning, and the speakers on his 
side, in part agree, with allowances for the intention of the 
Court which tried Mr. Smith, which the opposition mem- 
bers do not appear disposed to make, probably as con- 
ciliation is not an opposition principle. June, 1824. 



* Will not the maxim, " summum jus summa injuria, apply here ? 



94 



CCXXXIII. 

It is to be lamented, that those whose lives are of the 
greatest value to others, often set the least value upon 
them themselves ; that the same dispositions that make 
their friends anxious for the preservation of their lives, 
make them less auxious, if not totally indifferent about 
it ; in short ihat they are neither desirous to live for 
themselves nor for others, and yet they may have a 
tenderness of heart that attaches them to those friends, 
and makes them wish to preserve them ; but they will not 
preserve themselves for them : they do not, in this 
case, " do as they would be done by." Strange that 
the best, or at least the most amiable qualities of man, 
should be thus at variance with that prime faculty, 
his reason. Self, that is self-indulgence, is, I fear, at 
he bottom of all this ; and perhaps the want of a 
still higher principle than that which governs their 
conduct. In what light this places them with their 
Creator, who can tell ? 



CCXXXIV. 

Confidence, how desirous are we of enjoying 
thee ! and how many obstacles there are to that en- 
joyment, to our either giving or receiving thee ! Thus 
the highest pleasures of the human heart are denied 
to it; denied, no doubt, with the design of making it 
look to still higher. No, confidence must not be 
" put in any child of man." And yet we must love 
and be loved ; but with the view of promoting in otheri 



95 



and cherishing in ourselves, a higher love than that of 
our fellow-creatures. 

The love of God towers above all the other virtues, and 
includes them alh 



ccxxxv. 

If the heart is right, all is right; for the separation 
that we are apt to make of head and heart, may not be 
so just as we imagine. 



CCXXXVI. 

Whatever virtues we practise at home, we shall be 
likely to carry abroad with us : for they will not be 
founded in ostentation. 



CCXXXV1I. 



All the precepts of the Gospel are equally applicable 
to all times ; for the nature of man is, fundamentally, al- 
ways the same. 



CCXXXVI1I. 
Does not our attachment to our own homes betray a 
secret desire of attaining that home which will last for 
ever ? If we are " born but to die," there should be 
surely something to reconcile us to death; for what 
is natural, should be the wish of unperverted nature, 



96 



whence then our repugnance to die ? Perhaps from the 
uncertainty of what is to follow. There seem to be two 
ways of avoiding the fear of death; by thinking little 
or by thinking a great deal. 

If we also " reason but to err," it may be from the 
uncertainty we really feel in our opinions, which we ac- 
quire in a manner we hardly know how or why ; and 
this very circumstance (paradoxes we as are) may shew 
itself in the tenacity with which we adhere to our opin- 
ions, thus substituting a factitious for a natural adherence ; 
for what claim to certitude can a creature have, who 
knows so little (with all his boasted reason) as man? 
What we have, we acquire, but the disposition to acquire 
must be natural ; on what then depends the acquirement? 
All enquiry must resolve itself into a first cause ; all comes 
from God ; but how it comes we know not, nor indeed 
even why : we may see final (or rather immediate) ends,, 
but " ultima latet." 

What is certain to us, we know only from experience, 
which affords indeed a reasonable presumption, Tht vain 
attempt to extend our knowledge further seems to be 
evinced in such works as Pope's *j Essay on Man ;" much 
useful knowledge, however, though attainable, as Johnson 
said, by our nurses (that is, by common sense) is con- 
tained in that poem, recommended as it is by the en- 
gaging manner in which it is delivered. 



CCXXXIX. 

WERE we to examine nature through, we should pro- 
bably find many things that could not be explained (as 
being necessarily produced) by mechanical or any other 
natural principles, and which .therefore we could only 



07 

ascribe to the wisdom and benevolence of the Creator i to 
these indeed all must be ascribed ; for principles like 
other acting causes, did not make themselves- What 
then could that vain Frenchman, Buffon, mean by talk- 
ing (as Herault de Sechelles tells us he did) of being 
satisfied with the agency of levers, pullies, &c? 



CCXL. 

Who thinks deeply must feel deeply too, 



CCXLI. 



We are apt to attribute the opinions of others, if they 
happen to differ from our own, to weakness, caprice? en^ 
thusiasm, or any thing but sound reason ; seeing, as we do^ 
such a variety of opinions among our fellow creatures, and 
so many absurd and mistaken ones ; and not considering 
how apt we a,re ourselves to form hasty and Undigested 
ones, trusting as we do, to the impulse of the moment, or 
to the force of habit or prejudice, for the entertainment 
and delivery of them, or having adopted the opinions of 
others, from our want of power or inclination to give that 
examination to a subject (especially if it is a difficult 
and important one) that will enable us to form an opinion 
of our own : all this disinclines us from giving credit to 
what we are not previously prejudiced in favor of. But 
when we see instances of persons who have led the most 
uniformly reasonable lives, who have persevered in opinions 
that» will bear the test of examination, even if they should 
differ in some respects, especially that of seriousness and 
O 



earnestness, from the common opinions of the rest of 
mankind, and who manifest those opinions and feelings 
at a time when all the powers of the mind are put to the 
severest trial — I mean at the approach of death, we 
cannot but ascribe that manifestation to the influence of the 
most fervent and heartfelt piety, sanctioned by the sound- 
est reason. But to dispose us to examine this important 
matter so as to enable us to form a just decision upon it, 
we must be impelled by a sincere and earnest desire to 
ascertain the truth. 



CCXLII. 

There may be mysteries which, as being totally above 
our comprehension, we are inclined to doubt of, if not en- 
tirely to reject : but it behoves us to consider, first, whether 
the truth of those mysteries is not attested by compre- 
hensible and sufficient evidence (and this examination 
should be a fair one), and secondly, what would be the 
consequence of our rejecting them, and forming an opinion 
opposite to their reception : if they are sufficiently sanc- 
tioned by that evidence, and if the opposite opinion is 
manifestly an absurd and untenable one, it surely behoves 
us to assent to the truth of the mysteries, ascertained as 
it is by a test that may fairly be called infallible. 

This too is a recurrence ; but is it not a natural one ? 



CCXL1II. 

Good sense is common sense well applied. The pos- 
session of it is shewn in the use. 



99 



CCXLIV. 



Stupidity generally proceeds either from laziness or 
unwillingness. For this reason, perhaps, the common 
people in Yorkshire call obstinacy by that name. Want 
of ability is more shewn in not doing a thing well, than in 
not doing it at all. 



CCXLV. 

Sickness in the North is called " silliness." This 
seems to confound the disease (or weakness) of the mind, 
with that of the body. 



CCXLVI. 

How chained down, with most of us, is the mind to the 
sphere of action it has been accustomed to, and almost to 
that in which the body moves. 



CCXLVll. 

"Perhaps there does not a thought or feeling occur to 
a well-disposed and regulated mind, that does not make it 
sensible of what it is, and what it is capable of being. 



CCXLVIII. 

Life is feeling ; and feeling is thought, What we feel 



100 



we are; this is the " crede quod habes et habes." But let 
us not mistake our feelings. 



CCXLIX. 

There are no good feelings but what will verge towards 
the highest and the best. 



CCL. 

A thought worth dwelling upon will ramify into many 
others. So indeed will bad ones. 



ecu. 

What can we do better for ourselves than encourage 
those feelings which sometimes rise to the eyes, and suffuse 
them with tears ? 



CCLII. 



There are, perhaps, few unpleasant feelings that arise 
in our minds, but what may be ascribed to an evil 
principle. 



CCLIII. 

How fleeting are our thoughts, and how they attract 
and repel each other! But it may well be so, various as 



101 



they are, and fertile as the field is that produces them: for 
what do we know that is more extensive and fertile than 
the world we live in? 



CCLIV. 

We may "sow the seed,'' and we may "water the 
plant," but God "gives the increase," and he allows 
weeds to grow (and thrive too) in his garden : and is it |he 
same soil that produceth both ? Yes, it is. How much 
then depends on cultivation ! 



CCLV. 



I fear our first impulses are not always good-natured 
ones. Is it self-defence that forces us to this ? O no : 
though that may sometimes be the plea. 



CCLVI. 

Habit is a second nature ; but it is also in our power. 
Socrates appears, from his own account of himself, to have 
been an instance of this, and perhaps from the appearance 
of his features. 



CCLVII. 

The greatest advantages that we can have over our 
fellow creatures can only make us less exposed to hazards ; 
they cannot exempt us from them. 



102 



CCLVIII. 

There are persons (and, we may trust, many) whose 
characters are so amiable, that if any others express a dis- 
like to them, we may fairly ascribe it (in part at least) to 
envy. 

But even this description cannot ensure them from being 
injured, and even spoilt, in various ways : the common 
" wear and tear" of the world may do it : the " sincerum 
vas" may be "incrustated;" as the finest and most polished 
vessels are most likely to be injured. 



CCLIX. 

The difficulty that we find in accounting for the fore- 
knowledge of God, associated with the free will of man, 
perhaps only shows how little we know of causes and 
effects; and is one proof, among many, of our ignorance. 
Why should we not remain contented under it? especially 
as the sense of it conduces so much to the knowledge of 
ourselves. 



CCLX. 

We approve the most of those opinions, spoken or 
written, that accord most with our own. 



CCLXI. 

The security (as well as the delight) that arises from 



103 



good feelings, which will tell us where our best security 
lies, is more to be felt than described. 



CCLXII. 

We feel, as St. Paul did, the " body of death'' within 
us ; but we also feel, as no doubt he did, a principle of 
life, a " vis vitae," which will help, with higher assistance, 
to V deliver" us. 



CCLX11I. 

When a work is offered us for our perusal, we should 
ask, not what thought and attention it will require, but 
whether it is worth it or not. 



CCLXIV. 

Learning is too apt to keep common sense in awe, and 
to avail itself of its timidity and diffidence, in making it 
receive what it cannot understand, and what learning itself 
understands no better, though common sense gives it credit 
for a full understanding of it. This gives to learning all 
the folly of pride, and is a sort of retaliation for the 
slavish acquiescence that it has imposed upon common 
sense* 

N. B. The abuse, not the proper use of learning, is here 
meant. 



CCLXV. 

Professional men (particularly actors) sometimes 



104 

lower themselves beneath their own level, to put them- 
selves upon a par with that of their auditors, Whose ap- 
plause prevents the shame that these exhibitors would 
otherwise feel. 



CCLXV1. 

It is one great object with men in society, to know as 
much of each other as they can, for which they have va- 
rious reasons. It should then be equally the object with 
individuals to be known (if they are known at all) as much 
to their own advantage as their good conduct will make 
them be. 



CCLXV1I 



The uncertainty of future events is far more than com- 
pensated by the certainty that they are " appointed" (for 
foreknowledge is appointment) by God. What then have 
we to do but to resign to, and trust in him ? 



CCLXV111. 

Well* my septuagenarian friend and fellow-traveller, 
are you not glad that you are approaching to your home t 
For what journey can we wish to last for ever ? A social 
home, too, and where we shall meet with none bnt friends f 
And if time is really nothing, of what consequence is it 
whether life is long or short ? Of none, if it is well-spent * 



105 



CCLX1X. 

Swift's idea of " meditating upon a broomstick/' is 
not so chimerical as we may imagine ; for if all is con- 
nected, will not a broomstick make part of the chain ? 
And may not trifles be made of importance ? Not exactly 
in the way, perhaps, that Swift treats thera. 



CCLXX. 

Life's sufferings, various and manifold as they are, its* 
troubles, distresses, pains, afflictions, its vacuities, satieties, 
&c. all, all want a comfort, a refuge, an encouragement 
to look forward to better scenes and more unalloyed en- 
joyments. There is but one, and that is as ample, as sure P 
and as permanent, as any of these wants can require. 



CCLXXI. 

Amidst all the trials that we are subjected to here, can 
we suppose that a trial is not meant to be made of our 
minds 1 And can this mental trial be better made than by 
requiring of us the belief of what is indeed above our com- 
prehension, but of which the truth is vouched for by the 
best evidence that in such a case we are capable of receiv- 
ing ? What is denied to us in this ? The gratification of 
our pride, and are there not a thousand instances in which 
our pride requires to be humbled ? A reasonable pride is 
still left to us ; and can we in reason desire more ? Do 

r 



106 



not exclaim with Lorenzo, reader, " this is a beaten track ;" 
if you do, I shall answer, 

^ Is this a track 
" Should not be beaten ? Never beat enough, 
*' Till enough learnt the truths it would inspire." 



CCLXX1I. 

The bird is formed in the egg : to fly, it must be full- 
fledged ; but when may not the soul take wing ? What is 
required for her flight is given her with her existence : the 
rest is prepared in heaven. 



CCLXX1II. 

Curiosity, the leading feature of the human character, 
is often more the result of idleness than of a desire to 
learn, or at least to learn what is really useful ; and as 
to instructing others, I am afraid that it is not generally 
thought such a " delightful task" as Thomson describes 
it to be. The "radix amara, fructus dulcis" of honest Lily's 
Grammar, does not sufficiently tempt young minds (which 
seldom look forward) to undertake the process implied in 
it : for this reason, education requires and deserves all 
the attention that is now bestowed on it. As curiosity 
may be considered as the basis of a desire to know, the 
excitement and regulation of that will of course be the 
great object of that attention. Fear has been hitherto 
made too principal a part of education : the " rod" should 
certainly be " spared," but not wholly laid aside. Fear in 
que shape or another (for it operates differently on different 



107 



minds) must have a necessary controul over us ; but terror 
rather deters (as its name implies) than excites; and in 
its action on us, whether considered as cause or effect, it 
abases rather than exalts. The "love" that " casteth out, 
fear" is the description of a mind made perfect ; and that 
perfection, as in all other moral or religious points, should 
be the object of human endeavors. The fear of God, hew- 
ever is, as necessary as the love of God, and must exist 
in the mind before it can be " cast out" by the other : 
and as God deals with us, so should we deal with our 
fellow creatures : for what is life but education ? We 
know that God can punish as well as reward. No spring 
in the great moral machine of man should be left untouched ;* 
but different instruments require different touches ; the 
"piano" and "forte" indeed, will apply to the human 
mind; and what is the human mind but an instrument in 
which harmony or discord prevails ? Rousseau's reasoning 
on education is drawn, as in other instances, from the 
peculiar bent of his mind, Perhaps no system can be 
formed that is applicable to all cases ; and the deviations 
from it must be the result of observation and experience. 



CCLXXIV. 

I AM not sure that the changes proposed in early educa- 
tion, of substituting more serious and reasonable objects 
to children, in lieu of the trifling nonsense addressed to 
them by their nurses, and often by their mamas, &c. is alto- 
gether judicious. We recur with delight to the latter in 
our advanced years, which perhaps we should not do, if 
these early reminiscences were of a more serious kind ; we 
should not then make the comparison between the " childish 



* Emulation therefore ought surely to he excited. 



108 



things" of which St. Paul speaks, and the things Which 
took place of them when he " became a man;" comparisons 
which perhaps constitute the chief part of the pleasure 
which these reminiscences give us. I do not mean to re- 
commend a continuation of all the nonsensical stuff that 
children's minds* have been filled with, much of which may 
be liable to still greater objections than have been made 
against it : but that the " milk of babes" should be suffi- 
ciently appropriate to their age, and distinguished from 
the knowledge which they afterwards acquire. 

But I must confess that 1 have not attended enough to 
the juvenile tracts, &c. that have been published, to know 
how far they are calculated to answer the ends that I cou!4 
wish to be had in view. 



CCLXXV. 

Philosophy, in the pride of the human pursuit of ti f 
is made too independent of the dictates of religion, in trea- 
tises on education as well as other matters ; but there can 
be no sound reasoning in which religion is not at least 
equally attended to. Indeed religion and sound philo- 
sophy must go hand in hand together ; more than this, the 
second would never have gone at all, without the " leading- 
strings" of the other. 



CCLXXVI. 

I find that the " surgere diluculo" applies chiefly to 
my thoughts : if I were to speak from experience, I should 



* Or at least their memories. 



109 



say that the evening is the time to read, and the morning 
to write : in both the mind is disengaged from other ob- 
jects ; and in the latter, while the body is at rest, the mind 
rises, with renovated strength, to act for itself. 



CCLXXV1L 

All our enjoyments should have communication in view. 
How awful, and at the same time how delightful, is the 
thought, that we live for others, as well as for ourselves I 



CCLXXV1II. 

If we do good with sincerity, 1 believe we shall do it 
almost without being conscious of it, and we shall gain the 
approbation of those around us, without being aware that 
we have deserved it : and in fact perhaps we have not;* 
for what more have we done, than follow our own inclina- 
tion? It is to virtue then, more than to the practiser of it, 
that the homage is paid ; and can the general disposition of 
mankind be placed in a more favorable light 1 



CCLXXIX. 

In numeration, we do not begin from one, but with, one : 
what then do we begin from? Nothing: but what is 
nothing ? If one is an aggregate, it is from hence I 
suppose that the retro-action of numeration arises : but how 
are we to arrive at the nothing at which we set out? Nu- 
meration then is infinite both ways. 



* Or at least not their applause, 



110 



CCLXXX. 

Regarding the actual presence of the body and bloocl 
of Christ in the Sacrament, it cannot surely by any 
strain of argument be maintained that it is evident to our 
senses ; it cannot therefore be of the nature of human 
flesh and blood : of what nature then can it be, but 
a spiritual one ? And in this sense the actual presence 
is admitted by the Church of England. In what then 
do the Romish and Protestant Churches differ in this 
point, but in the words they make use of? — words 
that, different as they are, can only be "referred to one 
meaning. Yes, I will tell you in what they differ; 
in the degree of power they would arrogate to them- 
selves ; the Church of England follows as nearly as it can, 
the sense of the Scriptures ;* the Romish Church chooses 
rather to adopt nonsense itself than to leave the use of 
common sense to its followers. 



CCLXXXI. 

In a quotation from a work, entitled " a Key to the 
Chronology of the Hindoos," in the Monthly Review for 
May, 1824, the Reviewers say (quoting from one of the 
Indian sastras) " Men are permitted to worship the 
Incomprehensible Spirit in any of his works, if they 
consider the supreme Omnipotent Intelligence as superior 
to them all." 

We must not allow ourselves to compare this with 



* That is, with a reasonable interpretation, 



Ill 

our worship of the supreme Being through Jesus Christ, 
identified as the latter is with the former, in the doctrine 
of the Trinity : unless we consider the Indian tenet as 
an abuse or corruption of that doctrine, which indeed 
personifies the object of our worship in Christ, but at 
the same time separates the worship of the one supreme 
God from, and makes it incompatible with, that of 
any subordinate creature, however the latter may be 
excused by the ingenuity of human representations. The 
same identification surely cannot take place, nor be sup- 
posed, in that. Then let us not lower the dignity nor 
sully the purity of our faith, by such comparisons,* 



CCLXXXII. 

I H AVE just opened Mr. W ilberforce's " Practical View," 
where he ends a chapter with this quotation from Horace, 
Jiis, no doubt, as every feeling man's favorite, 

" Lucem redde tuam, dux bone patriae! 
" Instar veris enim vultus ubi tuus 
tl AfTulsit populo, gratior it dies, 
" Et soles melius nitent." 

(How beautiful !) 

Every word of Horace impresses its own sense, and that 
of the words in the context, with double force on the 
reader's mind. A poet who, like him, all pagan as he was, 



* Surely the worship of the « lingam" may be considered as impure ; 
beyond the white washing of any reference or association ; and it is of 
some consequence at least, through what medium we worship the Supreme 
Being, if we will adopt our own personifications , instead of trusting to 
that code in which the perfection of moral evidence is comprised. 



112 



writes from a head so stored with reason,* and a heart so 
warmed with feeling, will afford quotations for a Chris- 
tian philosopher, and almost texts for a christian divine* 
u Soles melius nitent" puts us in mind of Akenside's 

" Thou better sun, 
" For ever beamest on th' enchanted heart," &c. 



CCLXXXI1L 

A petulant Frenchman (and this petulance sometimes 
rises the highest amongst the beaux esprits of that country 
—moreover the Frenchman was un horame de robe, but 
not " un Francais de quarante ans,") has said in one of 
his works, " qu'il savoit bien qu'il etoit tres dangereux 
de tenter les hommes, mais qu'il ne savoit pas ce que 
c'etoit de tenter Dieu." 

Might we not ask him (tres poliment sans doute) whether 
a man who should presume too much on the favor and 
protection of the Being from whom he had taken but. little 
pains to deserve it, and from whom, perhaps, he in fact 
but little expected it, and who should purposely place 
himself in a situation to want that protection, would not 
rather deserve his anger than his favor? To tempt God 
then, is to expect his favor by a pretended or overweening 
confidence in his goodness. To tempt God, is to commit 
an action which implies a distrust in his promises, by the 
trial we make of their truth. What can M. Servan think 
such conduct deserves ? 



* Not indeed evitieed in the flattering application of these lines. But 
we must allow for the " fiction" of poetry, and the errors of paganism. 



113 



CCLXXXIV. 

There are thoughts which, by being " magis ad nos," 
must be always interesting to us. We do not therefore 
consider whether those which Shakespeare makes his dra- 
matis personam express are always suited to their characters 
or situations, because as they come home to all our "breasts 
and bosoms," they must always meet with a welcome there. 



CCLXXXV. 

Sincerity is so valuable a quality, that where there 
is an evident want of rectitude, there must I think be 
a. want of that. The " humanum est errare" therefore 
should not be too liberally applied as an excuse for aber- 
rations which no obliquity of mind, short of absolute in- 
sanity, will render excusable. And let us reme«mber (if 
such a state of mind* will admit of it) that self-delusion is 
want of sincerity. What armour will guard us against 
this, but the Christian ? 



CCLXXXVI. 

He, who "from his throne beholds all the dwellers upon 

earth," yes, and upon the thousands, the millions 

perhaps of earths, that are contained in the universe — 

but how contained ? Why, as making part of it. Part? 
— can infinity have parts'! Can it be divided ? Infinite 
divisibility then (if it cannot) should seem to be an error 
in terms. Alas ! how inadequate is language to meta- 



That is, so self-deluding. 
Q 



114 



physical definitions ! * Man, man, what canst thou know? 
Enough for thee, certainly ; but not enough for thy curio- 
sity : then repress it. 

Pope says, " presume not God to scan." But does 
not he in some measure scan, when he " expatiates 
free" over what is far beyond his reach ? Beautiful in- 
deed are his attempts ; but how far do they go ? No, 
the "fly on the chariot wheel" is a very faint repre- 
sentation ; man has not even the comparative importance 
of &jiy 



CCLXXXV1I. 

How much it must humble the pride of a man, who stands 
highest in the estimation of his fellow-creatures, to reflect 
how little of his title to it he really owes to himself. For 
by what are we governed but by our inclinations? Happy 
for us, when the motives that influence our conduct pro- 
ceed from a right source. But what is the merit that 
any one can claim to himself, when he compares it with 
that perfect model which he is enjoined to imitate ? 



CCLXXXVI1I. 

Surely we may say, that it is one great proof of the 
excellence and the divine origin of our religion, that it 
has given to the pride of man that lesson which it 
stood so much in need of. 



* There is one use, certainly, in metaphysics : it shews us the impo- 
tence of our attempts to understand it , What wc tan know of it, however, 
has othtr uses, and these essential to philosophy. 



115 



CCLXXXIX. 

The motto to Mr. Greville's Maxims, is " strike, but 
hear me !" To be sure the reply to this will be, " But 
are you worth hearing?" 1 think he is, and that the 
merit of his maxims is such, on the whole, as may justify 
that consciousness which he must have had when he 
prefixed his motto to them. Those who dislike maxims 
must, I think, dislike the exercise of thought. 



ccxc. 

It must be more than mere " verba et voces" that are 
sufficient " lenire dolorem :" though not always, neither, 
for Mr. Graves, in one of his novels, tells us of a sin- 
ner, whose wife, in opening at his desire the Common 
Prayer Book, happening to light on the " Act of Uni- 
formity," read it through to him, and he declared himself to 
have been much comforted by it. So 1 have read of one 
who counted the number of words contained in the bible, 
and declared it to be the pleasantest employment he had 
ever had. Light must be the sorrows that are so allayed. 
To such persons, " words" must indeed be " things." 
Their thoughts, however, must have been innocent ; and 
after all, not unconnected with more rational and serious 
objects. 



CCXCI. 

There are some persons (1 hope not many) who throw 
away their own judgments so completely, as to suggest a 



116 



reasonable doubt whether they ever had any : such are 
those who affect to despise a thing that does not deserve it, 
merely because it happens to be out of fashion. 



CCXCI1. 

Knowledge, like other edifices, may be built upon 
natural ground ; but a great deal of it is artificial, and (to 
use a vulgar phrase) it " smells of the shop." 



CCXCIII. 



We may allow a man to be whimsical, if he will ac- 
knowledge himself to be so. 



CCXCIV. 

Who, but our blessed Saviour, ever had a right to say, 
" Learn of me," &c. ? 



ccxcv. 

When men indulge a habit of laughing too much at 
what they say themselves, it has this ill effect : they will 
either be thought to laugh at others (a sardonic grin) or at 
themselves, in their own applause; to be either sarcastic 
or foolish. To be drily humourous, however, is no easy 
task. 



117 



CCXCVI. 

The occasional exhilaration of our spirits sometimes 
inclines us to say, " I am too happy :" does not this 
partly arise from our sense of the general imperfection of 
our happiness here and partly from that of the uncer- 
tainty of its duration ? 



CCXCVII. 

We know what we have — we know what we want— and 
we may presume upon what we shall have. 



ccxcvni. 

It has been observed that the middle classes of society 
are generally the purest, the most reasonable, and, we may 
add, the most interesting of all. This seems to answer to 
the text, in Proverbs, chap, xxx, ver. 8. *• Give me neither 
poverty nor riches," &c. and to be a sort of " aurea medio- 
critas;" in which neither the " obsoleti sordes tecti," nor 
the "invidenda aula," are to be found. They are less 
vitiated by luxury and pride (for riches and prosperity are 
well known to harden the heart) and less debased by po- 
verty and the vices incident to it. They have a plainness 
and frankness that make them more interesting, particu- 
larly in their misfortunes ; for the rich and great have a 
certain morgue, a certain attention to state and etiquette, 
that makes them less communicative, less approach- 
able, and that prevents their using that exercise of the mind 



118 

that shews itself in the middle classes (when they have 
minds to exercise) and which they chiefly depend 
upon in recommending themselves, and making their 
way in society. 1 think the want of these qualities 
shews itself in the higher classes, in an increasing propor- 
tion, till we arrive at the highest of all. These observations 
will apply to the common run of mankind (for the term 
" common" is confined to no one class) who have not those 
mental qualifications that raise them above their particu- 
lar situation (whatever it may be) and that may be found 
equally in all situations, rising perhaps the highest in the 
highest classes; as the opportunities of excellence (at least 
what appears such to human eyes) are greater, in pro- 
portion to their greater responsibility in the use and appli- 
cation of them. 

Elevation in rank and fortune both give opportnnity for, 
and require higher attainments than can be expected in the 
lower classes of society; but the common imperfections of 
human nature, and the consequent abuses in education, &c. 
make the possession of them more rare : when possessed, 
they are valued accordingly. 



CCXCIX. 

Goodness of heart is not shewn so much in being free 
from all vices (for " nemo vitiis sine nascitur"; as in 
struggling with them: if this is not done in any degree, 
the character must be considered as an abandoned one. 
If the struggle is made only with a view to conceal the 
vices, it is at least an " homage which vice pays to 
virtue," the superiority of which she acknowledges in the 
homage she pays ; and possibly this may be a step towards 
the practice of it. The conscious hypocrite cannot be 
satisfied with himself. His " fault" is not a " secret" one. 



119 



ccc. 

That " many are called, but few chosen, V seems ? to be 
evinced by the many obstacles there are to the attain- 
ment of those qualities that may be supposed to be required 
to make that "election sure :" the want of these* can only 
be supplied by the mercy of God ; and in our reference 
to that, we must indulge the hope, that those who are not 
chosen will not be " cast away." 



CCCI. 

That we are in the hands of God, every moment's 
reflection on his power, and our own weakness, must 
assure us of. 

Life is full of disappointments : the best expectations 
may be frustrated, the best men may be subjected to per- 
secutions, afflictions, and death. Is there no compensa- 
tion for all this ? — no retribution required at the hands 
of justice, to re-establish good in its right, and to give it 
the predominance over evil ? O yes, there is ; it is to be 
found in religion, it is to be found in the hopes which So- 
crates, Plato, and Cicero suggested, and which Christianity 
has confirmed : it is to be found in that place where " the 
wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." 



* It was probably the consciousness of that inherent imperfection and 
those wants, that made Bradford avow the insincerity (" hypocrisy" he 
called it) of his prayers, when he was on the point of justifying the sin- 
cerity of his religious faith by his martyrdom ; and if we do not make the 
necessary allowances for the universality of that imperfection, we shall go 
as far as he did, without having the same trial-, 



120 



CCCII. 

That the enjoyments of another state will be incompa- 
rably higher than any which we can have here, with the 
same congeniality of feeling that we have with the objects 
that best affect us here, a little reflection on those feelings 
will I think assure us of. 



CCCI1I. 

To be released from the power of others, and to be in 
possession of that power themselves, is the great aim of those 
who dissent from the principles of the Government of the 
country in which they live. They preach liberty, and have 
despotism in view. They may disavow these designs, and 
may even be unconscious of them themselves ; not being 
aware, that one mode of Government cannot be abolished 
without another, and that. more violent and oppressive in pro- 
portion to the difficulty of overturning the established one, 
being substituted in its stead. They are also not aware 
how they themselves would be impelled by this necessity, 
and how the evil passions, to which they are liable in coni^ 
mon with the rest of their fellow creatures, would be en- 
couraged, and in a manner sanctioned by it ; how " neces- 
sity" would become a " plea" for " tyranny." That they 
are not aware of these consequences, is probably owing to 
the influence of their passions : a little attention to the 
history of mankind, and even of their own times, might 
open their eyes. 

What men are to their wives, their families, and their 
dependents, they would be, if they were under no restraints 
to the rest of their fellow creatures. By restraints, I 



121 



mean those of prudence ; those of principle will influence 
tbera at home as well as abroad. 



CCCIV. 

Equal, perhaps, is the danger to a State, from those 
who cannot or will not see the evil dispositions of others, 
and those who endeavour to conceal their own. Perhaps 
the danger is greater from the first ; for they are equally 
liable to be actuated by evil passions (let their present in- 
tentions be what they may), and what they will not see in 
others they will be equally blind to in themselves. They 
will not be restrained by the caution that the other con- 
scious but cunning knaves have, who did not begin by 
deceiving themselves. 



cccv. 

" Honesty is the best policy," certainly : but it is not 
merely from calculation that men are honest. Virtue has 
other sources than in self-interest. If it were not so, to 
what should we refer the sense of dutv ? The very proneness 
to error (for certainly " humanum est errare") is a proof 
that men do not always act right from calculation. No, 
there are other impulses. The Author of all good, though 
he makes it arise out of evil, has not fixed its root in 
corruption. 



eccvh 

How much more severely should we judge of the 
R 



122 



faults of others if we were not restrained by the sense of 
our own. 



CCCVII. 

There seems to have been a sense of moral excellence 
in the minds of the ancients, and of the necessity of its 
application to the interests and happiness of man : but they 
either, like their philosophers, made it an abstract theory, 
or, like Virgil, Horace, and other poets, attributed it to 
mere human characters. They wanted Christianity to direct 
their search aright, and the example of our Saviour to give 
them a model of the perfection they sought for. 



CCCV1II. 



There are people who will not allow any agency to 
Providence, because they cannot conceive its modus agendi : 
others, because they cannot see it, &c. But perhaps the 
greatest want in these cases is that of feeling. This is not 
excited till we have felt our own wants and imperfections. 



CCC1X. 

Feeling is the eye of the mind. There are objects 
which may be seen in a wrong point of view with it 
(and here it wants the assistance of reason), but without it 
they cannot be seen at all. 

The eye of feeling wants the assistance of reason the 
more, as its own impulses on the mind are certainly more 
powerful. Another objection also lies against its un- 



123 



checked and undirected influence, which is, that to gain 
the concurrence of cooler minds, it will make conces- 
sions that, though they may be reconcileable to its own 
views, are not so to the clearer perceptions of reason. 
Thus an incoherent medley is made up, that will defeat the 
very object proposed to be answered. A farther explana- 
tion of this would perhaps lead to invidious details ; the 
application therefore must be left to the reader. 



cccx. 

All human events may no doubt be accounted for by 
natural causes ; but these, though obvious in their appli- 
cation, were not the less unforeseen and unexpected. It 
is this that makes them so awful. 



CCCXI. 

Hurry of mind will not allow the thoughts to be digested, 
and without that process, what are they worth ? 



CCCXI1. 



Maxims, to be terse, generally leave something unsaid* 
How indeed is a complicated subject to be developed in 
a few words ? Enough, however, if a maxim is a proper 
foundation to build upon. 



CCCXIII, 

So little comprehensive are maxims, that they generally 
give no more than ex parte evidence. '« Audienda est 



124 



altera^ pars." The part that Rochefoucault has taken is 
certainly not the most favorable one. In ascribing men's 
actions to one motive, he leaves them unaccounted for by 
any. 

CCCXIV. 

The character of a language may assist much in giving 
effect to the plaisanteries that are expressed in it. This is 
the case with the French, and it is perhaps no where more 
instanced than in Moliere. What can be more engaging 
than the sly simplicity and humour of his comedies ? A 
scene in L'Avare I think will prove this. Moliere is far more 
amusing than Rochefoucault, and at least as instructive. 
Swift says — 

" Rochefoucault his maxims drew 
" From nature." 

But from what nature did he draw them ? From such 
as Swift and he saw it. The character of the language 
that Rochefaucault and Moliere wrote in however, suits 
them both. What indeed cannot the French language and 
French Manners recommend ? More, 1 am afraid, than 
ought to be desired. The French deal in finesse ; John 
Bull in matters of fact: he states the fact as it is (giving 
now and then a little broad coloring to it) ; they refine 
upon it, but this refinement is only jineering ; it does not 
penetrate the surface. As is the language, so is the cha- 
racter of the people. Jt is curious enough, that the 
French are more reasoners than thinkers. Do they put the 
cart before the horse in this ? What say you, Master 
John ? 



cccxv. 

Moliere seems now and then (though rarely) to forget 



125 



that in indulging his own wit, he loses sight of the character 
and situation of his personages. Is this " ad captan- 
dumyulgus?" 

Comedy should be the representative of humau life and 
manners : when the writer makes it the mere vehicle of his 
wit, he gives it the character of farce. We may laugh at 
and admire the wit, but we cannot well approve the use 
made of it. It must be confessed, however, that M oliere 
has enlivened the hard and dry character of Harpagon 
with traits of humour that are suited to the character of the 
language. A bon mot never comes amiss to a French- 
man. 



CCCXVL 



Mrs. Montague has sufficiently ridiculed the turgid 
style of the French tragedies in her Criticism on the 
Cinna of Corneille ; had Alfieri fallen under her observa- 
tion, she would probably have done him more justice 
than he has met with from those who have said that in his 
tragedies it is always Alfieri that speaks, and not the 
persons of his dramas : surely nothing can be more appro- 
priate to their characters and situations, or more impressive 
in their effects on the reader, than those in his Antigone, 
Polinice, Timoleone, Agamemnone, &c. in which I think 
the " onine tulit punctum" may be said of him, that is, all 
the " points" which dramatic writing requires. Mrs. Mon- 
tague, with all her zeal for the reputation of Shakespeare, 
would not have made him a perfect model of tragic writing, 
as Alfieri's critics seem to have done. Many of the 
speeches in Shakespeare's tragedies in fact belong to any 
one else as much as to the person who utters them, and 
this is perhaps what recommends them. Alfieri's trage- 



126 



dies, and Rossi's comedies, 1 think, deserve the study of 
the Italian language, as much as Don Quixote does that of 
the Spanish. There are probably few languages in which 
the original productions may not be read with an effect far 
superior to what any translation can give them. 



CCCXVI1. 

There may be (and no doubt is) a comparative good- 
ness in human characters ; but how far does that go ? 



CCCXVIII. 

The same thought, if it is one of importance, will pro- 
bably repeat its occurrence to our minds ; and perhaps 
exactly in the same manner and words : if the mode of 
occurrence and expression vary, so much the better for 
ourselves and those to whom we communicate it, for it will 
be more likely to make, and to have made, an impression. 



CCCXIX. 

How often do we see, in poetry, a subject treated on 
with better verses than it deserved ! Not quite so 
often perhaps as the converse of this. But when the poet 
and his subject meet, it must be " for better or for worse." 



cccxx. 

Witholt religion, what would there be but negative 
reasons to reconcile us to death ? 



127 



CCCXXI. 

What sacrifice or what effort is too great to obtain 
peace of mind ? 



CCCXXII. 

To determine, is too much for man to take upon him 
to do : neither the power he has over himself, nor over the 
object he has in view, will allow of it : that he is bent, 
nay resolved upon it, (quoad in seipso est) he may say ; 
but the determination he must leave to a higher power : 
" Man proposes, God disposes :" if man's power extended 
farther, what a dreadful responsibility he might be subject 
to ! He may find some shelter, then, in his weakness. 



CCCXX1II. 

Peace of mind seems to imply a degree of self-satis- 
faction; is it then a compliment that we pay to our- 
selves ? When we are most angry with ourselves, it 
is perhaps our pride that is most offended. O pride and 
vanity, what Proteuses ye are ! and how are our feelings 
mixed ! What riddles we are ! Our want of power to 
estimate ourselves appears to be shewn in the mistaken 
preference given by some geniuses to works of theirs in 
which there had been the least display of excellence. This 
too is vanity, and perhaps a secret undervaluing of 
human attainments. Can we trust to such a guide ? The 
act of suicide is perhaps the impulse of pride (wounded 
pride ;) at least it implies a derangement of reason (that 



128 



intended controler of our passions,) as indeed does every 
deviation from rectitude. All may be referred to the in- 
fluence of feeling, or rather passiou. How much then is 
reason wanted ! The abysses of our minds are like those 
of the ocean, as our passions are like its waves. 



CCCXXTV. 

We are sometimes so wrapt in ourselves, that we are 
deaf to the voices of those who express the greatest interest 
about us. 



cccxxv. 

A MAN is sometimes obliged to be vain in his own de- 
fence, against the vanities of all around him. Thus John* 
son called his " defensive pride."* It is only before one 
Being that we can humble ourselves : if we do it before 
men, it is with reference to him. All but that is vanity. 



CCCXXVI. 

When the mind is too intensely fixed on one object, it 
cannot clearly see any other ; or at least only through the 
medium of that which engrosses its attention. So religious 
enthusiasm may prevent our making a just estimation of 
the human mind or its works. My little book, " odd" as 
you may be thought, will you be so judged ? 



* In his letter to Lord Chesterfield. — (See Boswell's Aneedotes 
of him.) 



129 



CCCXXVII. 

A man who is much occupied with observation of his 
fellow-creatures, may be called a bystander in life. How 
many blots may he see, that have never been hit ! Let 
him however look to his own tables. 



CCCXXVI1I. 

From what God can do, we may presume upon what 
he will do : for his other attributes must equal his power : 
pari passu incedunt. 

But in our conclusions from this, we must lose sight of 
none of his attributes. 



CCCXX1X. 

The duty that we pay to society, and to our situation in 
it, we pay to God: What we cannot pay, we should not 
undertake ; for that is an engagement of our responsibility ; 
and even our intentions will not acquit us. 



cccxxx. 

The necessity of our separating spirit from its gross 
companion matter, is an acknowledgment of its indepen- 
dent existence. What idea can the materialists form of 
the Supreme Being? If " God is a Spirit," why not other 
spirits? If nothing is impossible to him, and nothing 

S 



130 



conceivable* by us, why not an union, which we cannot con- 
ceive, of body and spirit ? Silly reasoners, who apply 
their measures to things to them immeasurable ! These 
M stretches of human brain" may be ingenious, but what 
knowledge do they reach to ? 



CCCXXXI. 

A statement of doubt is only a statement of ignorance. 
Should not this make us regulate our doubts ? 



CCCXXXII. 

To form analogies, we should have some knowledge of 
both subjects. 

CCCXXXIII. 

41 Be thou exalted, Lord, in thine own strength ; so 
will we sing and praise thy power." 

What ideas of power and might can go higher, or be 
more sublimely expressed? The superior strength and 
expression of prose over poetry (modern poetry at least) is 
no where more shewn than in the Psalms : in such pas- 
sages, too, as "With thee is the well of life, and in thy 
light shall we see light." — Psalm xxxvi. What can be 
more comprehensive, more expressive, or more sublime 
than this ? 

The effect of poetry is more upon the ear than upon the 
mind. To give poetry beauty, it must have amplification, 
it must have what depends more upon the imagination than 
the judgment. What has Pope added to the Lord's 
prayer ? 

* Or at least intelligible. 



131 



CCCXXXIV. 

How apt we are, in the names and epithets we give to 
things, to display our want of true taste ! Simplicity 
(expressive simplicity) is surely the test of it : but in lieu of 
that, we substitute unmeaning tawdriness. Our ancestors 
were more wise ; their appellations, therefore (where they 
are not gross) ought to be preserved. What we have 
gained in delicacy, we have lost in strength. 



cccxxxv. 

If " more" was not meant " than meets the ear," there 
would often be little addressed to the mind. 



CCCXXXV1. 

''Even so" — are we aware how much is expressed by 
that phrase when we utter it? More perhaps than what 
it may immediately allude to ; for the mind often adverts 
to other objects, So are ideas associated. 



CCCXXXVIl. 

" 1l y a des hochets pour tout age." 

N Beads and prayer-books are the toys of age." 

This may be true, Messieurs Fontenelle and Pope; but 
after all, it is only taking human nature in one point of 



132 



view : it is only true then in part, and such is the general 
description of wit. 

"Wits, when they write for the world, " know their men," 
Do they know themselves and their subjects as well ? 



CCCXXXV1I1. 

In making ornamental buildings, &c. we are apt to be 
fond of a white color. Is it that we admire that purify 
in them which we feel the want of in ourselves 1 



\ 



CCCXXXIX. 



Our best feelings, particularly those which love excites, 
cannot but be connected with our best interests. The desire 
that two persons who really love each other, and who are 
joined together by that marriage bond which alone can suit 
and sanctify such love, feel to be more closely united than 
the separation of bodies will admit of (Honi soit qui mal y 
pense) may not unreasonably be considered as being 
excited by the prospect of that union of souls, that 
" everlasting entenderment" that will take place in another 
world. 1 will say more : this desire can never really 
take place unless it is excited by a feeling which is far 
above all sensuality. The mixture of it with that (or at 
least the predominance of that) is as great a debasement 
as ever took place in the personifications of pagan idolatry. 
But even this had its lucid intervals. The fable of " Sal- 
macis and Hermaphroditus" was I believe founded in the 
idea I started with : at least it is the corrected and purified 
interpretation of it ; and that of Eros and Anteros (on which 
I have before remarked) as well as other parts of the 



133 



mythology of the ancients, may be considered as allegories 
of the same kind. When the corruption of literal interpre- 
tation takes place, the allegory is lost sight of. Horace 
might well exclaim, •' Odi profanum vulgus et arceo" (I 
am afraid he has not always a right to do this ;) but poets 
should consider that it is the " profanum vulgus" that want 
admonition : the initiated* stand in no need of it. 

Let not my reader's delicacy be offended at this ; for 
surely it is by such chains of thought that our " reins are 
chastened in the night season :" and let him, who thinks of 
the virtues and the mental charms of her whom he presses 
to his bosom, her who for years perhaps has shared with 
him the joys and sorrows of life, •' doubting" the one, and 
"half-expelling" the other, and who has advanced so far 
with him on their journey to that place where their union 
and their " entenderment" will be "for ever" — let him know 
how to appreciate these feelings ; and let not my reader 
blame those open expressions of them, but rather let him 
share with me those of which 1 wish him to partake. 



CCCXL. 

With all the ardent desires of the human mind, what 
must be the state of that mind in which there is no hope of 
their fulfilment ? 



CCCLXI. 

Christianity has softened manners, certainly ; but it 
has not yet united hearts ; indeed if it had, it would 
have anticipated the happiness of another world : and 
how ? To cease when most enjoyed, 

* Or rather, (he self-corrected. 



134 



CCCXLII. 

It is fortunate for the reasonable part of society, that 
those of both sexes whose acquaintance is the least desir- 
able, generally take care to mark themselves by going into 
the excess of the fashion ; as men, in the size and shape 

of their whiskers, &c. ; and women, but that ground 

is too delicate to be trod upon : indeed it is a field where 
there are various ways of losing one's self. I would 
advise those young persons who are more led away by the 
example of others than induced by their own inclinations, 
to get rid of those badges of a bad sect, lest they should incur 
the sentence of the proverb, " Noscuntur a sociis." 



CCCXLIII. 

What is of the most importance we are apt sometimes to 
treat the most lightly : this may be said of the faults 
that we observe in ourselves and in others ; we notice them 
from duty, and we do it lightly from complaisance. I am 
afraid that it is not altogether from a regard to justice that 
we now and then speak ill in their absence of those to 
whom we have been very civil in their presence. 



CCCXLIV. 

Consciousness and Timidity are the natural conse- 
quences of mental defects, and even immoralities ; and 
these may be discoverable even under the best (or rather 
worst) faces that in such circumstances we can put on : it 



135 



is only a sincere (nil conscire sibi," &c.) and well grounded 
self-satisfaction that can give a proper assurance. 



CCCXLV. 

There is such a selfishness in our nature, that we are 
apt to make our views of religious duty in some degree 
subservient to our mental enjoyment. Thus we carry our 
ideas of resignation so far as to divest ourselves of the 
common feelings and anxieties of life.* But this may be 
in part constitutional. True resignation prepares us for, 
and will soen improve itself into gratitude. 



CCCXLV1. 

Let us take what interest we may in any book we read 
(and those who can talk interestingly will probably write 
so,) that interest will not be complete unless it applies im- 
mediately to our own case. We shall still want the 
" quod magis ad nos pertinet." Nor is this selfishness ; 
for what is our own case, is the case of us all, or 
may be so. 



CCCXLV1I. 

Nature never deceives us ; if she pleases at the first 
impression, she is pretty sure to improve on a reviewal : 
it is not so with art,f whose best aim is to imitate nature. 
Her success in this determines her claim to our attention. 



* This has an allusion to " Quietism.' 
t I mean only as art. 



136 



CCCXLV11I. 

If it was not an apparently irreverent expression, I 
should say that it was wonderful what play-things have 
been given to man : yet why irreverent or inappropriate ? 
for what are men but children ? Grown children they may 
be ; but what state of adolescence do they arrive at ? 



CCCXLIX. 

The passage "through things temporal" is most as- 
suredly "unto things eternal;" be they good, be they 
evil. 



CCCL. 

" In ourselves dwelleth no good thing." 
Perhaps so: at least many evil things dwell there. 



CCCLI. 

Man only, unforgiving man, is sometimes " extreme to 
mark what is done amiss." 



CCCLI1. 

What, and from whence, are the strings of that heart, 
which vibrate so when they are touched. 



137 



CCCL1II. 

Feeling is both excited and excites. 



CCCL1V. 

When we observe the countenances and manners of 
others, we shall see the marks of one common feeling 
(when it is not obscured or perverted by the passions) 
which is independent of any difference of mental ability. 
Surely this is the most favorable aspect of human nature. 
It is a true fellow-feeling. 



cecLV. 

Well may Pope say — 

" Though man's a fool, yet God is wise," 
In nothing, perhaps, is the influence of God's wisdom 
over man's folly more displayed, than in the manner in 
which the human passions are made to counteract each 
other. 



CCCLVI. 

If there were no stimulus but the sense of duty to make 
us stem the torrent of life's troubles and of our own pro- 
pensities, we should hardly do it without the additional 
stimuli of our own passions, ambition, &c. How neces- 
sary then are they! but how dangerous, when not con- 
trouled by reason ! 

T 



138 



CCCLVII. 

The general effects of particular passions we know ; but 
in what manner they operate in individuals we are totally 
ignorant of. He only knows that, " to whom all hearts 
are open." 



CCCLVIII. 

"Who shall judge others? For who can tell what, or 
how much, has been " given" to each individual ? 



CCCLIX. 

Thoughtlessness is the resource of those who do 
not or will not feel; religion of those who do. 



CCCLX. 

What we have most to guard against is our pride ; 
but our object should be, not to destroy, but to subdue 
and regulate it; to make it subservient, not predominant ; 
for it maj be a very good servant, but it certainly will be a 
very bad master; indeed we cannot destroy it, for if we do 
in one shape, it will break out and shew itself in another; 
'• Fortunam expellas furca" &c. and with the more effect, as 
we shall then no longei know it, but mistake it for humility. 
Our first business is to know it in all its bearings, and to 
treat it accordingly. 



J 39 



CCCLXI. 

Consciousness of our own abilities may be as apt to 
mislead us as the applause bestowed on them by others. 



CCCLX1I. 

We ought to listen to the voice of reason, but how often 
are we deaf to it, or at least imperfectly swayed by it ! 
A time will surely come, when its power will prevail, for it 
was not given in vain ; how mu ch more will it then tell us ! 
But in what voice ? 



CCCLXII1. 

Such opinions as the Deists hold, neither will admit of 
a trust in God's mercy, nor fear of his power. The Cal- 
vinist runs into the opposite extreme to them. According to 
him, nothing is meditated, every thing having been premedi- 
tated. Both leave man without an expectation from, and 
consequently without reliance on, his Maker. 

What matters it then, whether we are Deists or Cal- 
vinists ? The Calvinist may (perhaps must) have his fears 
and his hopes; but both are at variance with his reli- 
gious opinions ; according to these, God has already de- 
termined his fate, and cannot be moved by his prayers. 
Calvinism, I think, affords a proof that we should not 
attempt to explain what is above our comprehension, as 
the prescience of God certainly is; nor always to reconcile 
apparent contradictions. In removing one difficulty (as we 
imagine,) we fall into much greater ; into difficulties that 
would appal any but a Calvinist. 



140 



God H will have mercy upon whom he will have mercy :* 
it is future determinations that he reserves to himself : he 
will have mercy, but the Calvinistwill not allow it. ■* His 
heart" however, " gives the sceptic (or dogmatist) in his 
head the lie." 



CCCLX1V. 

If we look around us, we may find few that are wor- 
thy to be " chosen ;" but we shall also find few (still 
fewer it may be) that are out of the reach of God's 
mercy ; so at least we may hope. 



CCCLXV. 

Sectarians are unreasonable in various ways : what 
shall we say to those who give the opprobrious name of 
" the Devil's pipes" to the organ ? * — to that almost divine 
instrument, whose effects Milton hardly over-rates when 
he says that it 

" Disolves the soul in extasies, 

" And brings all heaven before our eyes." 

The spirit of opposition can hardly shew itself more 
strongly than in this instance. But what lengths will not 



* What do they say to the trumpets, " the lute and harp, the strings 
and pipe, the well-tuned and loud cymbals," &c. with which the Israelites 
are exhorted (Psalm cl. &c, to " praise God in his holiness ?" O man, 
man, art thou not ashamed of thyself t 



141 



sectarian malevolence go to? Happily, however, there are 
many among them who " o'er all this edge of spleen" 
are influenced by gentler feelings ; by something of the 
" milk of human kindness." They, no doubt, are ashamed 
of the unfeeling folly of their brother sectarists. 



CCCLXVI. 

There are many who take up their opinions without 
having been incited by any previous doubt to the exami- 
nation of the subject on which they have formed them, 
They have no idea that conviction can be the result of 
of such a process. These can hardly be ranked among 
the .thinkers. But what is curious is, that those who so take 
up their opinions, are often the most obstinate in adhering 
to them, without very well knowing why. These then can 
hardly be ranked among the reasonable. Instead of having 
" proved all things," they have not even proved what they 
have adopted. Neither the one nor the other of these 
rational beings seem to understand ^vtiat doubt is : they 
jump at once from perfect ignorance to perfect certitude, 
cr what they take for such. They can hardly say "my 
heart became the convert of my head." 



CCCLXVIT. 

We are often readier to acknowledge a fact than to 
draw the proper conclusions from it. Is this from want 
of power or want of will ? 



142 



CCCLXV1II. 

When Lord Bacon formed his " novum organum," could 
he see more than the errors of the vetus ? could he 
foresee the abuses that might be made of his discoveries V 9 
No, as we can only judge " a posteriori," we can only 
look " ad posteriora," (rather ad priora — true, Mr. Gram- 
marian) — forwards we cannot look : we must wait for 
experience. 



CCCLXIX. 

To judge of combinations, the mind must combine in 
itself more than it can contain. I mean, where the com- 
binations are many and intricate. 



CCCLXX. 

Common sense is more equal to judge of systems 
(human systems I mean) than it is to form them ; indeed 
if it was not so, Bacon, &c. would have written to very 
little purpose. 



CCCLXX1. 

1 think we may find now and then the " poeta lo- 
quitur" in Shakespeare : the ancients would have made 
it come from the Chorus. Is this an argument in favor 
of their plays ? 



143 



CCCLXX1I. 

The four cardinal virtues are closely united together, 
and inseparable from each other. Without fortitude, tem- 
perance, and prudence, we cannot lay claim to justice, which 
latter indeed includes them all, and extends also to the vir- 
tues of charity and humility, without which we cannot be 
just either to our Maker, our fellow-creatures, or ourselves. 



CCCLXX11I. 

Let us hope that those who have injured us, and who 
were taken away before they could injnre us still more, 
and encourage others to follow their steps, have now no 
other feeling or recollection of this, than what excites 
them to thank God for their having been taken away so 
soon; and let those who remain on earth, cherish in 
themselves feelings correspondent to that. 

Lapse of time, change of situation, and succession of 
events, are the great substitutes for the want of human 
placability. If our own feelings improve with the progress 
of these, the work is completed and confirmed. 



CCCLXXIV. 

Thk desires of man are insatiable, aud the incentives 
given to him to the practice of virtue seem to be adapted to 
those desires ; for as he can never satisfy himself with the 



144 



acquisition of riches, honours, &c. so he can never acquire 
virtue enough to give him that satisfaction which his mind 
is capable of, or at least which it wants. But the discontent 
that is felt in these cases is of a very different kind : in 
the latter, the desire of increase is stimulated by far 
other feelings than by what it is in the former. Envy 
loses all its poison when its object is the imitation of 
virtue. Love is the produce of that, hatred of the other. 



CCCLXXV. 

In the doctrines of Christianity, as much has been deli- 
vered for the examination and satisfaction of our reason, as 
in reason could be required ; and as little left for the trial of 
our faith, as was necessary for that trial. Let those who 
waver (for I speak not to the confirmed Christian or the 
Infidel) fully and fairly consider this. 



CCCLXXVL 

Those who argue against the authenticity of the Bible 
(like the Jewish Rabbi, who called Moses " a cunning fel- 
low,") found their arguments upon the Bible itself, which 
is so far an acknowledgment of its genuineness. In the 
same book, (1 Sam. xii. 17.) after his address to the peo- 
ple, Samuel calls upon the Lord to bring thunder and 
rain; which he did. Was Samuel a cunning fellow too? 
Let us then either receive or reject the whole, for it must 
either stand or fall together. 



145 



CCCLXXVII. 



Is it not a proof of our incapacity to judge of a compli- 
cated whole, that we are obliged to have some one or more 
striking parts of it set before us, to determine our opinion ? 



CCCLXXVIII. 

Perhaps there cannot be full feeling without full com- 
prehension; we must be content with our measure of it here, 
and not expect or fancy it to be fuller than our nature 
admits of. If we do, the surplus must either be an adul- 
teration or chaff. 



CCCLXX1X. 

Religious opinion, whether Pagan, Hindoo, Maho- 
metan, &c. seems to be the opposition of one system to 
another, and that, without any appeal to reason ; for if 
they were examined at her bar, what comparison would 
any of them bear with Christianity ? 



CCCLXXX. 

The fears of man are in proportion to his weakness, and 
to his ignorance; and the only refuge he has against them 
is in supreme knowledge, goodness and power : if, in con- 
tempt of these, he trusts to his own resources, he will 
soon find what " broken reeds" they are. 
U 



146 



CCCLXXXI. 



That there are particular visitations and protections, 1 
think is evident from the 91st Psalm, as well as from 
other parts of the Scriptures ; and as all causes and 
their effects must be in the hands of Almighty power, 
we may well suppose that they cannot all be left to what 
we call the common course of things ; if it were so, there 
would be no retribution here, nor would there be any 
room for God's dealing with men ; we should leave nothing 
to him but the Epicurean's " securum agere aevum." 



CCCLXXX1I. 

All that we can understand is in favor of our belief of 
a Supreme Being; shall our ignorance be made a plea 
against it ? Of what are we not ignorant ? In what does 
not our reason assure us that there is much more than our 
senses (the only vehicles of information) can inform us 
of? If we believe in a Supreme Being, can we suppose 
that he would permit such excellence as was exhibited 
in the person and character of Christ, and such suf- 
ferings as he endured, such " works" as he performed, 
to be made the vehicle of a falsehood ? For Christ said 
that he was " the Son of God," and " the bread of life 
that came down from heaven ;" what then hinders our 
acknowledgment of his divinity in both ? Our prejudices 
that we will not reject, and our pride that we will not 
humble, even at the bar of our reason, which we per- 
vert so as to make it an accomplice with our pride. 



147 



CCCLXXX111. 

" I am the bread of life ;"* " I am the living bread 
which came down from Heaven." — (St. John vi.) 

What can the Unitarians oppose to this ? If they ad- 
duce passages which make for their opinions, they should 
surely also pay attention to those which make against 
them. And which are the strongest and clearest ? 

" It is the Spirit that quickeneth ; the flesh profiteth 
nothing." — (Same Chapter.) 

Is not this decisive against the Roman Catholic doc- 
trine of Transubstantiation ? Would our Saviour have 
what made " profiteth nothing," a vehicle for what pro- 
Jiteth every thing ? 



CCCLXXXIV. 

We are apt in religious matters to require a greater 
degree of conviction than our minds are capable of receiv- 
ing ; if conviction were complete, there would be no room 
for faith ; and conviction cannot be complete unless 
intelligence were complete also. Without faith,f man 
could believe nothing, for he can perfectly understand 



* If wc are to believe, with the Roman Catholics, that the bread of 
the Sacrament is not bread, but the actual body of* Christ, we have the 
same reason (literal acceptation) (o believe that in this passage Christ 
meant that his body was not a body, but actual bread. But the fact is, 
that what Christ will not have us believe, the Church of Rome will. The 
Unitarian indeed will neither accept the literal nor the metaphorical sense 
of the passage. 

t Faith in our senses. 



148 



nothing. If knowledge were perfect, man would have 
nothing to learn, and consequently nothing to stimulate 
his powers ; it is sufficient if he has what will direct their 
action, and authorize their conclusions. 



CCCLXXXV. 

There are no doubt many things that puzzle us in the 
Bible, but those that are plain far outweigh them, and the 
whole forms a body of such strength as makes ample amends 
for the weakness (if it may be so called) of particular 
parts. The 18th chapter of the 1 st book of Kings is of 
itself more than sufficient to do all this. 

If any justification was wanting of the declaration of 
God in the second commandment, that he is " a jealous 
God," we have only to consider, what would be the 
probable consequences of all mankind being left at li- 
berty to believe in him or not as they pleased, and 
what would be the state to which their ignorance, or 
any information given them without an absolute injunction 
accompanying it, or, still worse, what the influence of 
their passions would lead them to, and what it actually 
did lead all the nations who were not so enlightened to ; 
and then we must acknowledge, that such a declaration, 
and so enforced, was as necessary to the well-being of 
mankind, as to the maintenance of the true religion* 
on which that well-being so much depends ; and we 
shall see how futile as well as impious are the ob- 
jections raised by Voltaire and his associates in infidelity, 
against that declaration, as being indicative of a passion 
belonging only to the basest feelings of human nature. 



149 



CCCLXXXV1. 

If we consider, (what our reflections will soon inform 
us of) how thanks and praise must go together in reli- 
gious feelings, we shall understand what it is to give 
" glory to God, 1 ' and to " thank him for that glory." 
And how closely does that connect us, his creatures, 
with him ! 



CCCLXXXV1I. 

If man was made " in the image of his Maker," 
and " a little lower than the angels," could it be to level 
him with the beasts that perish ? 

See what we must reject and what we must admit, in 
rejecting the immortality of the soul. 



CCCLXXXVIIJ. 

What shall relieve, what shall rescue, the mind that is 
plunged into the depth of distress, grief, lamentation, and 
almost of despair, but the prospect and hope of futurity? 



CCCLXXX1X. 

" To do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly 
with our God," are three precepts, which, if required 
to their utmost extent, would be impossible for man to 
fulfil; and at the same time no one can deny the excel- 
lence of them, or the necessity of that fulfilment, to fit 



160 



us for the state of perfect happiness which must require 
perfection* to enjoy it, and which we hope for in another 
world : for it is not the ferocious valour of the Scandina- 
vian, nor the occasional and often capricious generosity of 
an Alexander, a Csesar, or any other admired hero (and 
the only real hero is the Christian martyr) ; it is not in 
short any virtue founded on pride or vanity (those Pro- 
tenses) that can fit us for that state, for which only the 
mercy of God, in accepting the humble confessions of our 
un worthiness, and our imperfect endeavours to render 
ourselves less unworthy, can raise us to. 

Let those who are unwilling to lower the pride of their 
courage or the splendour of their fame to this humble 
level, recollect the speech of the " godlike Turenne" to 
Louis XIV. that " he wished to put some interval between 
the life of a soldier and his death." 



cccxc. 

Those will be the most ready to attend to every address 
that is made to them, whose minds are the most capable of 
containing a variety of thoughts. 



CCCXCI. 

That difference in size is really nothing, seems to be 
evinced by the axiom, " nusquam Deus major est, quam 
in minimis," as well as by the consideration, that the power 
to produce any part or the whole, must be equal. And 



Perfection which will be given hereafter. 



151 

what is all comparative size when compared (if it could be 
compared) with infinity ? 



CCCXCIL 

It is hard to say whether the spirit of rivalry among men 
does more harm or good, necessary as it is in the present 
state of human nature. Till that nature is changed, the 
spirit of rivalry, and the practice of duelling which it 
begets, must probably both subsist: for while this earth is 
inferior to heaven, the " signs" of that inferiority must re- 
main. Nothing but decided subordination will keep us in 
awe ; and it is happpy for us when the same awe that is 
felt by servants of their masters, is felt by us of that Being, 
who is the common Master of us all. There is indeed in 
some (happy if it were in more) a good nature that coun- 
teracts the wrathful passions ; and well is it that our nature 
has any thing good in it at all. 



CCCXCII1. 

"The sun of righteousness shall arise, with healing in 
his wings." How exquisitely beautiful ! " Healing," 
what ? All the wounds of life. 



CCCXCIV. 

A MAN who goes on in the same tone of elevation or ex- 
pression of voice or manner, &c. (be he young or old) espe- 
cially if it is not countenanced by good sense, cannot I 
think be actuated by mental impulses ; though he may by 
vanity or animal spirits* 



152 



CCCXCV. 

The custom which 1 have observed among the common 
people in country churches (particularly in my own parish 
church of Masham) of bowing the head at the repetition of 
the verse in the " Venite exultemus," " O come, let us 
worship and fall down, and kneel before the Lord our 
Maker," and similar passages, seems to me to be a very 
proper one : for such a reverence is as much called for 
in the pronunciation of what expresses an act of adora- 
tion, as of a name (that of Christ) to which it is deter- 
mined that adoration shall be paid. In both cases it 
is due. 



CCCXCVI. 

Good sense and a certain pliability of mind, where 
reason applies her hand, are nearly allied. Obstinacy is 
folly or any other synonym of folly. 



CCCXCVI1. 

August 1, 1624. 
The text in the sermon of to-day, from the Gth chapter, 
8th verse of the prophet Micah, " Be hath shewed thee, 
O man, what is good," demonstrates how much man is 
the object of God's peculiar regard. He has " created 
him in his own image," he has " made him a little lower 
than the angels," and has given him powers of feeling and 
expressing adoration and gratitude, and (O wonderful 



J 53 



act !) his only Son, part indeed of himself, came down 
from heaven, to take the nature of man upon him, that 
he might raise the fallen creature to that state for which 
he was born.* Incomprehensible as the latter act of 
divine goodness is, it is attested by evidence too strong 
not to be believed. To these reasons however for adora- 
tion and gratitude, in the sermon 1 have heard to-day, is 
superadded that of interest, as distinct from the induce- 
ments of reason ; which is a separation that appears to me 
to be altogether improper, and indeed absurd : for what 
could reason say, if it had not interest to plead ? or what 
expectation could there be that man would listen to it, 
if he had not an interest in doing it? Without that, he 
would have no motive to act from. It would indeed place 
him on a level with his Maker ; for the highest idea per- 
haps that we can have of the divine goodness towards 
man is, that it has no interest to excite it, which motive 
can only act upon a subordinate and dependent creature, 
such as man is. 

In the afternoon we went to hear an excellent sermon, 
preached by the Rev. Mr. Burrill, curate of Masham, to 
above one hundred children of the national and other schools 
of the parish. The sight of such a congregation is the more 
affecting, as it reminds us of what we ourselves were, and 
represents to us what we hope to be, as we are told we 
shall be, in Heaven. 



CCCXCVI1I. 

A measure is given to life, and an existence to time, 



* To Pope's " born but to f'ie," he should have added, " and to iivt 
again.'* 



154 



of which that measure is formed, and which is itself 
measured by years, months, days, &c. Time is then 
made by and for the material world, and they have 
a co-existence together : to the world of spirits both 
are as nothing ; their eternal existence no more de- 
pends on the revolving periods of years, months, and 
"days," of which our life is " numbered," than infinity 
can be divided into parts : they are absorbed in the 
contemplation of one great Object, or in the sense of 
the privation of that contemplation ; — they can have 
no expectation of future good or evil, nor the hope or 
fear that it produces ; their fate is determined b\ the 
present (always present) state in which they are ; for this, 
life, and the time of which it consists, is a preparation 
and a school ; and this appears to constitute the use 
and the value of time. 

The metempsychosis, or transmigration of souls into 
other bodies, is surely an absurd system, begotten by igno- 
rance and mistaken conclusion, as it makes spirits depen- 
dent on matter, as not being able to exist without it, as the 
supposition of the infinity of the material world also makes 
the existence of spirit depend on that of matter: and even 
God himself would be, what Spinosism makes him, only 
the soul of that material world, as the soul of man is, for a 
time, the animating part of his earthly existence. His 
passage from that into another is but a separation of these 
(the one dependent, the other independent) to be followed 
by an existence, eternal as is the Being who gave it. 



CCCXCIX. 

Shall we lay no stress on the truth of those opinions 
and those feelings which afford the only comfort at the 
hour of death? 



155 



It is feeling that requires comfort : hardness of heart 
requires none, nor would admit of it, not being made of 
" penetrable stuff." It is reserved perhaps for pain that 
canuot be comforted. 



cccc. 

The existence of a purgatory state is one of the per- 
haps few opinions of the Romish church for which much 
can be said. Being " beaten with stripes," " few or 
many," seems to imply a purpose of correction which 
is incompatible with eternal punishment. The rejec- 
tion of this was probably occasioned by the determi- 
nation of the Reformers (in their opposition to the 
Romish church) to adhere strictly to the letter (and spirit, 
as far as they could understand it) of the New Testament, 
and not to deviate from it, nor to extend it to any im- 
plications or inferences that might be made from any of 
the texts that did not contain a direct precept. 



CCCCL 

There are some, who are so strongly prejudiced in 
favor of, or agaiiibt an opinion, that they will not hear 
the least objectiou to or argument in favor of what they 
approve or disapprove of. With them, all such argu- 
ments as are opposed to their own opinion are totally 
unworthy of divine or human toleration : " laudandum" 
or " tollendum" is their motto. They are exempt from 
the " humanum est errare," and their opponents art 
gone far beyond it. 



156 



CCCCII. 

III habits that will not yield to raillery are incor- 
rigible ; but as ill habits are generally contracted by fol- 
lowing bad examples, it may be hoped that the sub- 
stitution of good examples and advice will correct them, 
as indeed it generally will, where there is good sense 
to work upon. 



CCCCIII 



Our observation of the general imperfections (to call 
them by their lightest name) of human nature, may, if 
this observation and the conclusions we draw from it are 
not carried too far, afford as reasonable a ground of 
hope and trust in the mercy of God (when applied 
to ourselves and our title to it) as any that we can 
form from the best endeavours we can make to deserve 
it; nay aore, if we consider how imperfect those en- 
deavours must be. 



ccccrv. 

Swinton Park, Aug. 12, 1824. 
After a series of various and changeable weather, we 
are at length come to that which is best fitted for the 
great purpose of the season, the ripening of the corn, 
of which there is a promise of an abundant harvest ; 
and all the previous weather we have had, anxious and 
uncertain as it has made the mind of man, has been 
a preparation for it. Well may we therefore exclaim 

with Thompson 

" How good the God of harvest is to us !" 



157 



The autumn is every way fitted for the purposes which 
it is made to answer : it ripens the fruit, it softens the 
solar heat which had brought that fruit so near to maturity, 

" attemper'd suns arise, 

" Sweet-beam'd," &c. 

and it is a prelude to the approach of winter, for which the 
gradual decay of nature prepares us — emblem as it is of the 
winter of our lives ; in doing this, it inspires a seriousness 
that approaches[to melancholy, but a melancholy of the most 
delightful kind, that brings tears into our eyes, which we 
may hope are the tears of " virtue." It is the season of 
calmness, of tenderness, of sympathy, of melancholy, 
and of consolation : it is worthy of all that Thomson, in 
his " Autumn," has said of it and its effects : effects 
which 

" the power 

Of philosophic melancholy," 

and still more that of 

" Devotion rais'd to rapture," &c. 

so strongly produce in the mind. Happy for us, if these 

and similar dispositions are generated by it, even before 

our own season of 

■ " sober autumn, fading into age," 

" Ere pale concluding winter comes at last, 
" And shuts the scene :" 

shuts it here, to open it in u another and a better world." 



ccccv, 



Those who prefer ruder and more untaught poets of 
nature to Thomson, appear to me to betray a want of 
taste in themselves for what is really sublime. Their 



158 



ideas of nature seem to be like those of the poets whom 
they admire. If there is sentiment, it is a sentiment of 
a lower kind, unelevated by others that are congenial 
with it. Thomson's imagination may sometimes have 
carried his descriptions into what has been called " taw- 
driness," but they are still inspired by sentiment. For 
this, consult his " Autumn," and his " Winter," u 



CCCCVI, 



What a deal of trouble do some people save, or think 
they save to themselves, by never examining their opin- 
ions ? But are they not sometimes disappointed in this, 
by the vacancy they feel in their minds ? This may give 
them a trouble of another kind. Which will you prefer, 
reader? Perhaps whichever you have chosen. 



CCCCV1I. 

An abstract idea of sentiment may have betrayed 
and ruined many a poor girl, who thought she saw in 
her lover the workings of a feeling which her charms and 
her mental qualities had raised for a time, only to sink 
afterwards into its own native brutality and depravity. 



CCCCVIII. 

The more of sentiment there is in connubial fond- 
ness, the higher it will rise. 



159 



CCCC1X. 



Satire, or observations upon human imperfections, 
should, as Jacques's " taxing" did — 

" like a wild goose fly, 

Unclaimed of any man." 
For thus, it must have no marked personality ;* and then, 
the stronger it is, the more unwilling will be the indivi- 
dual to " claim it"— to " put on the cap that fits him ;" 
as he will digrace himself the more in his own and others' 
estimation. If the satire is evidently personal, it will 
be ascribed to personal motives. Besides, we are pre- 
cluded by a higher authority from personal "judg- 
ment," as we are from any thing that may injure our 
" neighbour." This would not be " heaping coals of 
fire on his head." No, leave him to his own feeling, or 
to others' opinion of his running into the vices or follies 
which your satire reprobates. 



ccccx. 

Wherever any fatal catastrophe has happened, we 
cannot help forming in our minds a connexion between 
the place and the event, which, as our reason will soon 
tell us, cannot really subsist. Our superstitious feelings, 
however, make us even suppose that the connexion is still 
kept up, and the place revisited by the spirits of those who 



* We may observe of satire that it is apt to destroy its own force, by 
overshooting the mark, as Pope sometimes did in his " Timon," &c. 



160 

suffered in it ; spirits which are now as little connected 
with the place, as they are with the beings and the forms 
under which they suffered in it. Thus it is that we cannot 
disengage ourselves from the ties that chain us to that tem- 
porary existence that we now enjoy, nor see through the 
veil that hides from us the future existence which, with the 
eye of reason and faith alone, we are enabled to look for- 
ward to. As our reasoning faculty is by far the noblest 
that we possess, we must consider that as the basis on 
which our faith is built ; and that whatever influence it 
may have on our feelings, must be, when properly regulated, 
to refine, elevate, and correct them. Without the aid of 
reason, they would be no more than what we enjoy in com- 
mon with the brutes. 

" Self-love still nearer as its object's nigh ; 
" Reasons' at distance, and in prospect lie." 



CCCCXT. 

In the Scriptures, there is an awful mysteriousness, 
mixed with a simplicity of narration that renders them still 
more awful and impressive, which, added to the habit we 
have lived in, of considering them as the object of our 
highest reverence, in some measure deters us from examin- 
ing them by the rules of common criticism. If we attempt 
to do this, we shall find in the facts related in them, and in 
the general character and conduct of the Jewish nation, 
great proofs of cruelty, and of every kind of immorality. 
It cannot however be denied, that they were the only 
people on earth who had the knowledge of the true God, 
and who, by the divine communications that were made to 
them, were exempted from that general idolatry (however 
prone they shewed themselves to fall into it) which was spread 



161 

over the rest of the world , and which, if the Jew s had not been 
set apart in their exemption from it, would have possessed it 
(some philosophical minds perhaps excepted) wholly. Why 
the Jews should have been so selected, or how to account 
for the opposition of their character, manners, &c. to those 
feelings and habits which we might justly expect to result 
from the cultivation of true religion, and the practice it in- 
culcates, is indeed a difficult matter, though not more diffi- 
cult than to account for that general proneness in our 
nature to evil, which requires a more than human power to 
counteract it. It appears to have been reserved to Chris- 
tianity to give the feelings and habits above-mentioned their 
full force (as much at least as the condition and circum- 
stances of human nature admit of) and to impress upon the 
minds of men the necessity of following that course of life, 
and of cultivating in themselves those dispositions of which 
we find the perfect example in our blessed Saviour, and in 
him alone. 

What should we reject, in rejecting the Bible ? and what 
could we find as a substitute for it? Let us ask. ourselves, 
and seriously consider, these two questions. A truly well 
disposed mind will make the best of the knowledge it has, 
and wait in humble suspense for more. 



CCCCXI1. 

The language of the Psalms may I think be called a 
desultory and artless but earnest expression of feeling, ac- 
companied with the sublimest ideas and images, which can- 
not be surpassed by any conceptions that the human mind 
can form. Many of the passages in them are obscure in 
their application, and they vary from an expression of self- 

Y 



162 



humiliation, to the apparent indulgence of a vindictive 
spirit, sanctioned indeed by a concern for the honor of God, 
which is in a manner identified with the feelings and in- 
terests of the Psalmist himself. The general strain of de- 
votion, trust and resignation that runs through them, must 
make them both respectable and highly interesting, though 
they may sometimes want the interest which they would 
have in our minds, if they were more immediately addressed 
to our own particular cases and feelings, which indeed many 
parts of them are, and as such must be understood and 
sympathised in by every rightly disposed mind. Their 
general connection with the great object of the Scriptures, 
and particularly those parts of them which are decidedly 
applicable to our Saviour, must give them the highest title 
to our reverence, and must unite them with all our devoti- 
onal feelings, and with all the hopes which they inspire. 

What is most impressive, and most interesting (if 1 may 
use that term) in the Psalms, must, I apprehend, be what 
is most applicable to our own case and feelings : and the 
more general that application is, the more we shall proba- 
bly be struck with it ; especially as we must take our share 
in it in common with the rest of mankind; and the share 
that each individual takes in it will depend upon the sense 
he has of his own weakness and unworthiness. Wha t 
therefore is more proper to awaken that, sense in us, than the 
reading those compositions ? or to refer us to the source 
from whence our best consolation must be derived ? To 
that then let the " broken and contrite heart" address 
itself. 

The Object to which the Psalms are addressed is so 
sacred and so exalted, and the addresses themselves are so 
earnest and so evidently proceed from the warmest feelings 
of the heart, that they supersede all criticism that may be 
made upon the mode or language in which they are ex- 
pressed : nay, that warmth of feeling itself accounts suffi- 



163 



ciently for any neglect there may be of correctness of 
expression, or of attention to any thing in which the heart 
is not immediately concerned. Of the heart indeed, they 
may be considered as the spontaneous effusions. What is 
most intelligible and most conspicuous in the Psalms, is the 
piety which they express ; though the mode of that expres- 
sion is sometimes obscure, and the transitions are abrupt^ 

Psalm xxxiv. v. 18. " The Lord is nigh unto them that 
are of a contrite heart, and will save such as be of an 
humble spirit." 

So indeed we may well hope and trust ; but who is he 
that answers these descriptions ? Is human pride so easily 
conquered ? By adversity it may. 

The most impressive passages in the Psalms are (of 
course) those that are of the most general application ; — 

" O tarry thou the Lord's leisure ; be strong, and put 
thou thy trust in the Lord." (Psalm xxvii. 16.) 

This is of universal application, and therefore must be 
universally interesting: and if of immediate application 
(as it also may be) it must be still more so. 



CCCCX1I1. 

1 know not whether the " light heart" &c. that " goes 
through the world my brave boys," is to be envied or not ; 
but this 1 know, that some thought, and serious thought 
too, is necessary to enjoy the pleasures as well as to feel 
the pains of life, to say nothing of its duties ; and the 
"burden" of the song seems to exclude feeling as well as 
thought, which 1 think is pretty decisive against the adop- 
tion of its maxim ; we may, therefore, fairly estimate it at 
the value of an " old song." Such songs, indeed, are made 
chiefly for the gaiety, and sometimes the intoxication of 



164 

the moment : but they are also the confessions of the re- 
verse that the succeeding moment may bring ; for care will 
" call again to-morrow," however we may be " now to 
mirth [inclined." " Nunc vino tentas, nunc cantu pellere 
curam: Frustra," &c. 

Music, however, and gay music too, may have its turn, 
and we may allow (with Mrs. Chapone, I think) that 

" Since life is no more than a passage at best, 
" Let's strew the way over with flowers," 

is at least an " agreeable absurdity." Besides, (if my 
reader will allow me to go on with these " old songs" " nee 
lusisse pudet") we should not with our Reverends, Vene_ 
rabies, Very Reverends, Right Reverends, and Most Reve- 
rends, enjoy the sublime airs of Handel at the Ancient 
Concerts, if we did not interpose (which they indeed 
are restricted in doing) lighter and gayer strains, to feel, 

" What passions cannot music raise and quell." 

What extent shall we give to these transitions ? Allbu^ 
the indulgence of downright immoralities; these we will 
leave to Bacchanalians and Anacreontics. 



CCCCXIV. 

The heart that will contract at the pressure of sorrow, 
will also expand at the lighter touch of joy : both are proofs 
of its sensibility. What thanks then have we not to render 
to the Power who has given us these mixed and alternate 
sensations, to enable and incite us to enjoy the pleasures, 
and to perform the duties of life ? 



ccccxv. 

The obstinacy and the irresolution of men (both owing 



165 

to their weakness and ignorance, not knowing what to 
change or what to adhere to) creates equal difficulty in 
the management of public affairs, at least in critical 
times. When matters go on in their usual train, there 
are not the same trials. This may be seen in the Re- 
formation, in the time of Henry VIII. and the Rebel- 
lion, in that of Charles 1. How much of history is 
seen through the medium of prejudice! and at the times 
when men's passions are heated, how violent those pre- 
judices are ! 

How much opportunity is given to excuse the conduct 
of Sovereigns, by their acting through the medium of 
Agents and Ministers, and sheltering themselves under 
what is imputed to them ! This excuse, however, has 
its limits ; and a Sovereign has generally his private pro- 
pensities, as well as his privy purse. For the use and 
exercise of these then he is responsible to God, and not 
to man. 



CCCCXVI. 

In reading the Church service, such a stress should be 
laid on each word as may make the proper impression : 
and such a time should be given to the pronunciation of 
it as may allow that impression to take place. 



CCCCXV1I. 

Jn the economy of Nature, there is no superfluity nor 
deficiency : or if there is an appearance of either, it is only 
to shew the greatness of the scale on which Nature works, 
in comparison with the littleness of man ; and she makes 
it up by the average of years which she takes. "We should 



166 

therefore consider her works, (those of her great Author) 
upon that scale, both in the physical and the moral world ; 
and we should conclude, that when he afflicts the sons of 
men, he does it with the design of giving them useful 
lessons, of correcting or punishing their faults, and of 
teaching them their dependence on him, which they are so 
apt to forget. 



CCCCXVIII. 

Nothing can shew more strongly the peculiar and 
inscrutable ways by which Providence works its own ends, 
nothing can shew more strongly the futility of human 
reasoning and expectation, than the taking of Ipsara by 
the Turks, now (August, 1824) announced in the public 
papers : It will of course depress, or at least check, 
the sanguine hopes of the Greeks, and raise the depressed 
ones of the Turks ; but the probable consequence will be 
(if we may venture to conjecture) to portract the contest, 
and make it more bloody, and that it will end in the final 
ruin of the Turks, who will accelerate and aggravate it 
by the confidence and pride which this event will inspire 
them with, and which they do not appear to have suf- 
ficient means of supporting. 



CCCCXIX. 

Detached thoughts seem to me to be the best, if not 
the only way of portraying the human mind, and this 
must be done by itself : it must be an autograph : and it is 
only the portrait of the moment, at which it is taken, that 
perhaps of the humour of the moment, which is ever 
varying, as our spirits or incitements vary: there are 



167 

generally however some leading features which give the 
same tone to all the portraits, and will make them re- 
semble each other. Shakespeare makes " each man act 
many parts," but they succeed and interchange with each 
other more quickly than he makes them do, with subor- 
dination however to the main businesses of life, which 
are more or less important and influential, according to 
the station and character of the individual. 



ccccxx. 

We are so apt to think favorably of ourselves, that our 
conviction of the rectitude of some of our sentiments or 
opinions serves us as a. kind of voucher for that of others 
which might not stand the test of a stricter examination. 
By this means, trouble is saved, and satisfaction (such 
as it is) gained ; at the expence, however, of truth ; and 
our real improvement is at least retarded. The most 
decisive result of self-examination is self-distrust. 



CCCCXXI. 

The intercourse of society creates both the resem- 
blance and the difference of the individuals who compose it. 



CCCCXXII. 

Men are so much alike at all times, that it is hardly 
possible the same thoughts should not occur : the ex- 
pression alone of them will vary ; and this we take for 



168 



novelty. So men change their appearances as tbey change 
their dresses : a little more or less finery. In morals, 
however, every man should be his own tailor ; but he 
must work after a model, some few originals excepted. 



CCCCXXII1. 

Things may be viewed in such different lights, that it 
is possible we may be thought to contradict ourselves, 
when we really do not. 



CCCCXXTV. 

A MAN who thinks strongly may sometimes create an 
image in his own mind, that is too strong for him to 
deal with. He must then take refuge behind a paradox, 
or puzzle or amuse his adversary by some play of his 
imagination, involving him in the smoke which he has 
raised himself. Have 1 done this with you, reader ? 



ccccxxv. 

What useful substitutes are words, when we do but 
half understand a thiug ! And has not this been the case 
with many geniuses, as well as dunces ? Have they not 
wrote " about it, goddess, and about it"? Who makes 
most smoke perhaps succeeds the best. "Ex fumo 
lucem," however, sometimes. 



169 



CCCCXXV1. 

Men who ate rationally liberal, of whatever rank they are, 
will feel that they are but men, and will shew their sense of 
that equality, with proper reservations, in their behaviour 
towards their fellow-creatures. But there are some, who 
having a predilection for those of their own rank 3 and 
seeking their society accordingly, make distinctions which 
ought not to be made between gentlemen in their social in- 
tercourse with one another. This disposition is too apt to 
be encouraged by those who are fond of the society of their 
superiors in rank, and who are, 1 believe, still known by 
the name of " Quality binders." This of course creates a 
jealousy in those who value their own independence, 
though they have not the same advantages of rank or title, 
or perhaps of fortune, which is the silver ticket of society : 
and thus the sentiment of liberality, and even in some de- 
gree of urbanity, is precluded on both sides; or at least a 
shyness and unwillingness to associate is produced : but 
this cannot take place where real good sense is possessed. 
The only qualities required by that, are those which itself 
possesses. 



CCCCXXVII. 

1 will not say that the woJd is made up of cunning, 
bu' \ will say that there is a great deal of cunning in the 
world. Part of it, however (1 hope the better part,) may 
be called defensive cunning; and this is the more neces- 
sary, as without it the knavish part of the world might be 
more than a match for the foolish. The sense of this ne- 
cessity makes people, whether foolish or not, disbelieve 



170 



what they Jiear related of simplicity of character, which 
they attribute to the credulity of the relater, not considering 
that they allow at least one instance of simplicity in him ; 
till their own experience has convinced these self-defenders 
(as far as they are open to conviction) that the account 
they had heard was true. 



CCCCXXVII1. 

One way to know ourselves, is by observing the manner 
in which others receive what we say to them, and then 
comparing it with what we think of ourselves, and perhaps 
drawing a medium between them : or if both should be 
favorable or unfavorable, comparing it with the dictates 
of our reason. 



CCCCXXIX. 

We are the less able to judge of others, and still less of 
the world in general, as we are apt to be more struck with, 
and even to generalise, what is bad in it. 



ccccxxx. 

Human ity is the first of virtues ; and " homo sum ; nihil 
humani a me alienum puto" is a most excellent maxim ; 
but humanity should be tempered by judgment ; for when 
the same lenity is shewn to imprudence, or even to the indul- 
gence of vicious habits, that is due to unavoidable misfor- 
tune, or to accidental error, instead of doing any real good 
to the individual we shew it to, we only encourage his 
faults, and aggravate the distress that we wish to relieve, 



171 



besides the example and encouragement we give to others . 
till at last we are forced to use that severity, which if exer- 
cised sooner, and perhaps in a smaller degree, would have 
been the greatest humanity we could shew. 

To give to those who are connected with or depend upon 
us, timely notice, by our conduct and what we may say to 
them, of what they may expect from us if they deserve it, 
is the best service that we can do both to them and to 
ourselves. 



CCCCXXX1. 

When people argue upon abstruse subjects (and the most 
abstruse are often the most interesting*) they are apt to lose 
sight of that with which they professedly set out, by having 
their attention fixed on the medium through which they 
view it; and as each views it through a different medium 
(which may be seen in the actions as well as in the reason- 
ing of men; they fancy themselves in opposition to each 
other, and go on disputing till their attention is recalled to 
their principal object, by something that has an immediate 
relation to it. f 



CCCCXXXI1. 

Things are so connected with each other, and the tran- 
sitions are so easy, that it is difficult to get others to reason 
closely, or even to do it ourselves, however we may 
intend it. 



* As are the mysteries of religion. 
t This I think may be observed in metaphysical disquisition*, 



172 



CCCCXXXIII. 

Good, as a positive term, can have, as our Savionr 
observes, but one application : all others are merely com- 
parative. 

The life of man is a succession of business, of pleasure, 
of usefulness, of trifles, of seriousness, of vanity, &c. 
The life of one, and of one alone, was entirely spent in 
" doing good," in every shape that it can be done. 



CCCCXXXIV. 

The line of honesty is so differently drawn by different 
persons, that one would be led to think that there was an 
honesty in the abstract. Practical honesty, however, in 
the strictest sense, will always be the object of him who 
wishes to settle a just account with himself. 



ccccxxxv. 

We may sometimes preclude ourselves from fixing an 
opinion, by carrying our reasoning upon it too far ; as we 
may also fall into an erroneous one by not carrying it far 
enough. 



CCCCXXXVI. 

If we always attempt to do all the good that we imagine 
we can do, we shall often be likely to do a great deal of 
harm. 



173 



CCCCXXXVII. 

The desire of a constant and general intercourse with 
society must proceed either from an indifference in the 
choice of our companions, or from a philanthropy that 
rises above all discrimination, and includes all descrip- 
tions ; or from inability to find resources within ourselves, 
or to bear the trials of solitude. If it arises from other 
motives, as vanity, interest, &c. they must be mixed with 
and supported by one of these. 



CCCCXXXVI1I. 

There is a general level among mankind, which is 
only raised or depressed by the different qualities and 
dispositions that place some above, and others below, 
their fellow creatures. 



CCCCXXXIX. 

Such is the disposition of mankind, that one difference 
of humour, opinion, &c. is more likely to set them at 
variance with each other, than twenty similarities are to 
reconcile them. 



CCCCXL. 

There are probably few who are admirers both of Sir 



174 



Walter Scott's and Crabbe's poetry ; certainly ?ery few, 
if any, who are equal admirers of them. The variety, the 
romantic wildness and imagination, and even the careless 
freedom of the former, charm many readers; while the 
correctness and truth of the latter, however interestingly 
and forcibly represented,* attract but a few. Sir Walter 
Scott recommends himself by the ease with which, in his 
poems and novels, '• late qui splendeat unus et alter assui- 
tur pannus." And this the more, as none of his readers 
are called upon to put the panni upon themselves, unless 
they chuse it. But Crabbe's panni (a term which J sup- 
pose the polished reader would think more applicable to 
his figures) are more fitted to humau nature in its un- 
sophisticated, and perhaps in its unimproved state, than 
we like to see it dressed in : he holds up a mirror in which 
we cannot bear to view ourselves, nor even that part of 
the world which lives in a state that the other part 
may wish to turn their eyes from, or only to lend the 
glance of pity or assistance now and then to, without 
taking any further part in it themselves. For this; reason, 
we like to look at such representations (highly as they are 
finished) in the Dutch, or in Wilkie's pictures, better than 
to see them described in a manner that brings them more 
home to ourselves. This perhaps is the more to be ob- 
served iu those who have lived in the higher classes of so- 
ciety, and especially who have been used to dangle at the 
skirts of the highest. Can '* unus et alter" of these 
M panni" be put on occasionally, without sticking too close 
to us ? I am afraid not. 



* His representations, however, sometimes exceed the truth : such is the 
force of imagination, and of the desire to make an impression j and when 
did not Poetry overcharge her pictures ? 



175 



CCCCXL1. 

We are apt to attribiue particular opinions, or 'defences 
of those opinions, and authorities from which their's are 
derived, to the professional prejudices or interests of the 
persons who entertain or defend them ; forgetting that 
their profession has given them opportunity, and made 
it a duty for them to examine those opinions and authori- 
ties, more than we ourselves are likely to have done. It 
is therefore incumbent upon us to allow a greater weight 
to their opinions 021 subjects which are immediately con- 
nected with their profession, if they support them with 
reasonable and sufficient arguments, although we may 
not give implicit credit to them, which indeed we are 
not called upon to do. 

If we are not perfectly sure of the solidity of our own 
opinions, we may be the less disposed to pay a defer- 
ence to those of others, however high their reputation may 
stand : but have we not both our reason and our feelings to 
guide us in the examination of them ? And for what else 
were our reason and our feelings given to us ? 



CCCCXLI1. 

How often does solemnity or formality of manner cover 
vacuity of thought ! It may be a shield too against many 
painful feelings which thought excites. But is it not a bar 
to the access of many pleasurable ones ? Still more, if 
pain lurks behind it. And who shall tell what may lurk 
there? But it does not accord with our present humour, 
and we tike it not. 



176 



CCCCXLI1I. 

The kindness of Nature has made what is most beauti- 
ful, most common ; though we, her capricious children, 
prize only what is rare, whether beautiful or not. How- 
ever, we (those at least who are alive to her charms) may 
be said to enjoy the general view of them, though we'neg- 
lect particular objects. But the more we attend to them, 
the more we shall admire them : for the mind has the power 
of sharpening again the blunted edge of enjoyment : and 
let not the proud philosopher nor the dissipated worldling 
call this Reason's second childhood. 



CCCCXL1V. 

The love of novelty is so strong in us, that it pervades 
even our devotional inclinations ; for I believe it has led 
astray many an unsettled Christian. We have not the 
patience to wait for novelty, till we can have the only real 
enjoyment of it — at our entrance into another world. 



CCCCXLV. 

He who is in the habit of examining his own mind, will 
find it the source of some pain, but much pleasure also ; 
for it will open to him its secret stores, and enable him to 
improve what is good, and purge it of what deserves not to 
be kept there. 



177 



CCCCXLVI. 

We are perhaps less meritorious in following a right 
path than the Ancients were, when they did it without 
having Christianity to point it out to them ; and we are 
certainly more culpable when we leave that guide, to 
follow a wrong one. 



CCCCXLVI t. 

The imprecations in the Psalms, apparently vindictive 
as they are, are considered by Divines as being prophe- 
tical, and as referable only to the punishment which God 
will inflict upon sinners ; and there are doubtless many 
reasons in favor of this opinion : but there is such a strong 
appearance of their proceeding from the circumstances 
of David's owu case, and they accord so much with the 
whole of it, that we may be at least excusable in attri- 
buting them to the feelings which that excited in him. All 
this however may require a fuller, and consequently fairer, 
examination ; an examination in which our jealousy should 
be cast aside. 



CCCCXLVIII. 

A mistaken tenderness may be some excuse for our 
being indulgent to those whom nature and parental affinity 
have placed under our care : but we should consider that 
the selfish indulgence of our own indolent habits is no ad- 
dition to, but rather a diminution ot the force of this excuse 

2 A 



178 



and that we are laying up a store of incalculable mischief 
both to our children aud ourselves, however good their dis- 
positions may be, and the worse indeed on that account : for 
both they and we ourselves will be sure to feel severely 
the ill effects of our misconduct. We may complain of their 
want of disposition, and even of capacity to improve ; but 
have we tried all the proper means of overcoming the one, 
or supplying the other ? Have we, in short, begun with 
ourselves ? 



CCCCXLIX. 

We should be careful not to mistake the possession of 
talents, or their occasional exhibition, for the full use of 
them. We may be apt to pay ourselves too cheaply ; for 
it is to ourselves that the first account at least will be 
rendered. And while the " day" lasts, we are told that 
it is never to late too make it up. But certainly the 
sooner we begin to do it, the better, for " procrastination" 
may be continued while " year after year rolls on, till all 
are fled." But let me first apply this to myself; for 
sanandus et ego sum. 



CCCCL. 

Have I not said before, that one of our dangers (and that 
perhaps not the least, for we may suffer by it in both worlds) 
is, in our being too well spoken of by others? And this 
not improbably is meant by the strong text of Scripture, 



179 



" Cursed is he of whom all men speak well !" * This 
danger most probably originates in our making the " praise 
of men" our first object : how soon then ought we to be 
taught to prefer that " of God !" 



CCCCLI. 

We are never perfectly content with others, perhaps be- 
cause we are never perfectly content with ourselves. Some 
we think too light, others too grave, &c. But there are 
few who have not some good qualities ; ancrfhe best thing 
we can do, is to let them see that we value those, and 
disapprove of, at the same time that we excuse, as far as 
we can justly, the faults or defects that are mixed with 
them. In doing this we must necessarily draw our ob- 
servations from personal examples, otherwise they would 
neither be so useful, nor perhaps any way applicable : 
suffice it, if we name no one (for then " our taxing, 
like a wild goose flies, unclaimed of any man,") nor ap- 
proach too near in description : justice then may have 
its free exercise, and cannot be too strict, for it is not 
the punishment but the correction of men that is aimed 
at. Those, however, who have any sensibility about them, 
ought not to be stung to desperation. 



CCCCLII. 

Reflections occur to us the more readily as we see ge- 
nerally things in the same light, and have been prepared 



* What is here precisely raeont by " cursed' 



180 



by experience to make them; we judge of them from our 
own biasses, which have generally the same inclination* 
Thus we are mannerists, in judging, as in painting, wri- 
ting, &c. Our humours indeed may differ more than our 
judgments. 



CCCCLIII. 

The uniformity of each man's character makes the 
variety that exists among different individuals : and the 
tie of one common interest prevents that variety from 
interfering with the maintenance of that uniformity in 
each individual. 



CCCCLIV. 

Two great objects seem to be had in view by the 
Author of nature; one, to fill his creation with life (and 
consequently with the enjoyment of what goes to such an 
astonishing extent below our powers of vision ;) the other, 
to prevent that abundance from interfering with the enjoy- 
ment of the different beings who compose it. For this, it 
was probably necessary that they should prey upon each 
other, both in a living and dead state, as we see various ani- 
mals do. How the sensations of fear and pain, which this 
must produce in living animals, are modified or made con- 
sistent with enjoyment, we cannot tell ; perhaps in great 
measure by the privation of mind, which in us somuch aggra- 
vates the sense of pain or fear. The latter seems to extend 
no farther in animals than is necessary for self preserva- 
tion. A fact, which 1 remember, may be considered either 
as an exception to, or exemplification of this. A sportsman 



181 



had winged a snipe, which consequently fell to the ground, 
when a sparrow-hawk appeared immediately hovering over 
it; the poor snipe uttered the most piercing cries, as con- 
scious of its inability to escape from its natural enemy ; 
but this situation it was put into by the hand of man, who, 
when he approached to take up his prey, probably did not 
give such alarm to the poor animal. 



CCCCLV. 

Those who have never known what it is to be melan- 
choly, can never have truly known what it is to rejoice ; for 
feeling is essential to both, 



CCCCLVI. 

When hyperbole is carried too far, it becomes nonsense, 
and instead of its adding to the force of what we would 
express, all expression is lost in absurdity. So it is, whea 
addressing ourselves to the Deity, we say — 

" Eternity's too short, 

" To utter all thy praise :" 

Forgetting that eternity is the utmost limit (if eternity 
could have limits) that we can assign to the duration of any 
being whatever; and that in thus under-rating that dura- 
tion, we under-rale the very majesty of Deity itself. Why 
will we thus misuse the common sense that he has given 
us, in straining it beyond its powers? Why should we not 
rather acknowledge the power of feeling over reason in 



182 



calling upon " expressive silence'* to " muse Lis praise V f 
All beyond this must be " ad captandos insanos." Shall 
we be afraid of judging these lofty subjects by the rules 
of common sense ? If we are, let us not attempt to judge 
of them at all. For if we attempt to fly higher than com- 
mon sense will carry us, it must be with Icarus's wings. 



CCCCLVII, 

" Os homini sublime dedit coelumque tueri 
" Jussit, et erectos ad sidera tollere vultus." 

O Lucretius, it is to be hoped, that notwithstanding 
your imperfect endowments as a heathen, and your abuse of 
those very endowments, you now derive some benefit from 
the use you have here made of your talent ; that it is some- 
thing in your favour to have taught your fellow creatures, 
the sons of men, to think and to express themselves as you 
here have done. But you would not have so expressed 
yourself, had not you yourself been taught.* What return 
did you make ? Who can tell ? We Christians may have 
gained in feeling, and it is to be hoped in the conduct of 
our lives ; but it does not appear that we have gained 
in expression. The Heathens had one common master 
with us. 



CCCCLV1II. 

Expression is the clothing of thought ; its reception 
with the world depends as much upon this, as a man's does 
upon the coat he wears. 

* Taught, in (his instance, by a superior Power.. 



m 



CCCCL1X. 

Our vanity shews itself even in our gratitude to our 
Maker, for we must feel the internal advantages he gives 
us, to be grateful for them. Thus vanity leads to its pro- 
per end, and its proper corrective. It was not then t( given 
in vain." 



CCCCLX. 

Cannot we admonish our fellow creatures against fol- 
lowing an example which we disapprove of, without con- 
demning the individual who set it ? Must we personify 
vice, to make it odious ? Is not its own mien frightful 
enough ? 



CCCCLXI. 

He alone is free who voluntarily acts as reason dictates. 



CCCCLXIi. 

False compassion is the greatest cruelty ; for it encou- 
rages the false pretences under which that compassion was 
gained : instead of relieving, its ruins. 



CCCCLXII1. 

In appreciating the Psalms, or any other part of the 



184 



Scriptures, we should be careful not to trust too much to our 
own powers of judging what may be above our comprehen- 
sion, or even adverse to our opinion or feelings, but when it 
is sanctioned by its association with the rest of the sacred 
books. 



cccclxiv . 

This life being as nothing in comparison with eternity, 
it appears that under certain circumstances the Supreme 
Being considers it as nothing himself, both with respect to 
its duration, and to what attends it during that. Its ulti- 
mate end is a preparation for the life to come ; and God 
only knows when that preparation is complete, or what is 
necessary to complete it. We sorrow here ; but how soon 
may our " sorrow be turned into joy ! " 

All evil must be compensated. The sufferings there- 
fore of m»n, as they exceed those of beasts, must have 
higher compensations ; and their height must be equal to 
what the desires of man aspire to. His conceptions, we 
are told, they will be far beyond. But the other demands 
of justice must be satisfied, as well as this: the general 
satisfaction has been made by our Redeemer : the rest must 
be fulfilled, as he has enjoined, by each individual. 



CCCCLXV. 

The opinion of Plato was, that all things were created ; 
that of Aristotle that they have existed from all eternity : 
the first is the system of revealed religion, and probably was 
derived from it; the second, the suggestion of unenlight- 



185 

ened reason : we have only to consider the superiority of 
the religion which has been revealed to us over Spinosism, 
to judge of the truth ef the former, and of the necessity of a 
revelation, to impart a knowledge which all the.acuteness 
of Aristotle could not supply him with. The reason of man 
could go no farther than to make of the Supreme Being a 
mere Governor of an universe already made to his hands. 
Who made it, and who appointed the Governor? 



CCCCLXVI. 

We are so eager to obtain positive information and that 
too from the evidence of our senses, (which even then we 
should hardly believe) that we are not satisfied with the 
equally certain knowledge that negative proof will give 
give us. We are so desirous of knowing what, and even 
how things are, that we will not form our conclusions of 
what they are from the conviction of what they cannot be : 
nay, we pay no regard to all indirect, all presumptive 
evidence, in our search after a knowledge which we 
canuot obtain, and which, if obtained, would unfit us for the 
situation we are in. Should not this make us distrust our 
judgments, and remain at least in that humble suspense 
which will finally lead to knowledge ? 



CCCCLXVI1. 

It should seem that the pride and ambition of man will 
not allow him to form his conclusions a minoribus ad 
majora. We see how he grasps at. every thing. Has not 
his indolence too a share in this? Make it worth my 
*yphile to take the trouble, says he. 

2 B 



186 



ccccLxvm. 

The imperfect ideas that we form may make us wish 
for more ; and the manner in which they suggest them- 
selves to us may make us afraid of losing them by a more 
laborious and circuitous mode of acquirement. In the 
very attempt to arrest them, they are gone, and we fly 
to sense to supply their place.* 



CGCCLXIX. 

The necessity of making some figure in the world may 
be an excuse for the mistaken means we sometimes take 
of making a great one : the best preservative against this is 
no doubt the knowledge of ourselves. 



CCCCLXX. 

The recollection of those who have come to a sudden 
and violent death (self-inflicted,) and whom we thought 
worthy of a better fate, and were interested in, may 
sometimes come across our minds (expressive phrase!) and 
give ^us a sensation of grief, anxiety, and uncertainty for 
their fate in another world, which can only be relieved by 
our reference to the mercies of that Being whose laws 
they have violated in thus disengaging themselves from 



* All ideas must be suggested by the occasions which present them. 
Newton probably would not have thought of his theory of gravitation, 
had it not been for the apple which he threw up. But it is not every one 
that can follow an idea like Newton. 



187 



their responsibility to fulfil them. Their excuse for it 
must be in what instigated them to it : perhaps it has been 
the last means which Satan has been permitted to take, 
to secure them to himself. Their previous conduct may 
not allow this to be an excuse. 



CCCCLXXI. 

Suicide is certainly not the necessary effect of cow- 
ardice (as it has been said to be) which has various and 
sometimes opposite ways of shewing itself. A distinction 
may also be made between moral and physical courage. 
Fortitude and a right frame of mind are certainly great 
securities against the commission of suicide , to which we 
see that circumstances in life, and even the mere taedium 
vitce, without any external cause, or any apparent de- 
rangement of intellect, will sometimes impel its victims : 
but the most effectual security against it is in religion (which 
indeed a " right frame of mind" implies) and the sense of 
its duties and its prospects : with these in view, all temp- 
tations to suicide will shrink into nothing. If our existence 
is given us (and certainly we did not give it to ourselves) 
it must be that we shall perform the duties * of it : the 
refusal to do this (which is implied in the act of suicide) 
is as great an act of disobedience as we can commit: 
what then can we expect after it, but the dreadful sen- 
tence, " Depart from me, for I know ye not," &c. ? 



CCCCLXXII. 

A soi-disant Philosopher once said to me, that 

* Cicero, in the "Soraniam.Scipionis,'" has given us in a few but 
impressive words, the same reasons against suicide. 






188 



" scepticism was the only rational religion :" (in fact it 
is no religion at all.) The obvious answer was, yes, 
for those who wish to attain a knowledge that they are 
not capable of : those who reflect how little they can 
know, will be satisfied with a lesser degree of informa- 
tion ; such as has been given* 



CCCCLXXIII, 

If we do not raise our ideas higher than this life, w® 
shall not only be incapable of adding to or improving our 
enjoyments, but we shall lose all relish for those we have ; 
tired and dissatisfied as we must be with all our present 
enjoyments that do not lead to the expectation of some- 
thing still higher, which alone can give any value to them.; 
for they do but whet our appetite for more. 



CCCCLXXIV. 

We associate, we converse with, we amuse, and we 
comfort (sometimes indeed we quarrel with) each other, 
but all this does but excite a wish for something more 
satisfactory, which we feel most when we are alone — 
when our passions do not take the place of our natural 
desires : when we are alone, they are fixed on their pro- 
per object. If two people or more meet, who have the 
same object in view, that attention will be increased in 
proportion. Tell me, ye who are satiated with the plea- 
sures or the ambitions of life, is it not so ? 



CCCCLXXV. 

The only authority that we have for considering any 
part of the Psalms as prophetical, is where they are cited 



189 



in the New Testament by our Saviour or any of his Apos- 
tle's : an authority which is amply sufficient to stamp them 
as such. But to consider the imprecatory passages in the 
same light, would I think be to confound the case of 
David with that of our Saviour, and would justify, if not 
necessitate, our referring all his confessions of unwortbi- 
ness, &c. to the same object. This would surely be to 
raise the character of David at the expence of that of our 
Saviour. The sentiments which the former expresses in 
the Psalms are agreeable to what we know of David's 
character, and he would hardly scruple to deliver the same 
in public, as to be sung, &c. that he expressed in his pri- 
vate devotions, unless he made distinctions which would 
have impeached the sincerity of his feelings. It pleased 
God to make him an instrument to prepare the way for the 
coming of the Messiah, as it did to make the Jewish nation, 
with all their unworthiness, an instrument for the preser- 
vation of the true religion upon earth, and if David was 
the " man after God's own heart," it must surely have been 
in what best qualified him to be that instrument. As our 
Saviour was to be born of David's family, it is natural to 
suppose that the latter would have a consequence given 
him proportionate to that distinction, and to what entitled 
him to it, without our expecting that he would be as free 
from all human frailties as our Saviour himself was, which 
certainly was not the case. 



CCCCXXLV1. 

1 think we must suppose that the feelings of David, 
from a view of his own case, were mixed with a prophetic 
view of what was to happen afterwards, of which he was in 
a manner himself unconscious; for we cannot suppose that 
he, and Abraham, who " saw the day" of Christ, and "was 



190 



glad" of it, saw also the whole series of events connected 
with it. What they saw was by inspiration, which is supe- 
rior to and independent of the operations of reason, and 
would probably be given in a degree and manner suited to 
answer its purpose, without any reference to the deductions 
of reason, which had it been left to them,* would in all pro- 
bability have carried its desire of knowledge further. I do 
not see how we are to account for David's suggestions, with- 
out this mixture, unless we are to suppose that he was no 
longer what he had been, and what he was at the time he 
delivered them, which a reference to his history by no 
means authorises. 

If our reason is appealed to for the belief of miracles, it 
must have something to do in the contemplation of those 
human events through the medium of which those miracles 
were accomplished : indeed in all beyond that it still must 
have its share of action. 



CCCCLXXVII. 

The swifts (hirundo apus) leave this country the first 
week in August ; the old swallows probably about the 
end of that month, leaving the young ones (which we may 
distinguish by their assembling in numbers about build- 
ings, &c.) to gain strength for their migration, and to feed 
upon the insects that yet remain in the atmosphere, and 
of which the quantity probably diminishes from the time 
of the swifts' departure. The old swallows go first to 
the sea-coast, where the number of insects probably is 
greater. 

Thus every thing is arranged by a wise and bountiful 
Providence, for the subsistence and enjoyment of its 
creatures. 

• To its own deductions. 



191 



As to the migration of birds, there can 1 think be little 
or no doubt about it, unable as we are to conceive that of 
the small and apparently weak-winged tribes of the Fly- 
Catchers. Their distance of flight is probably proportioned 
to their strength.* 



CCCCLXXVI1I. 

So much has been allowed to us (all probably that we 
are capable of availing ourselves of) in evidence of the 
existence of an acting or superintending Providence, that 
we may well suppose that something would be reserved 
for that lesser demonstration that we are capable of receiv- 
ing of things above the intelligence of our senses. And 
what regard may not man presume to have been given to 
himself, when so much is given to the creatures below him ! 



CCCCLXX1X. 

Nothing will secure the inviolability of the marriage 
ties but mutual love. For this we engage at the altar, and 
therefore the obligation to it is equal on both sides. Where 
this exists, there is no fear that principle will give way to 
passion, for both are engaged in their adherence to one 
object, the attention to which will render our observance of 
St. Paul's precepts an inclination as well as a duty. 
Mutual love will supersede or at least render of no conse- 
quence all little bickerings or ill humours, for the mutual 



* Other observationi might probably be made of the martins and 
sand-martins, for which I have not had opportunity. 



192 

esteem in which it must be founded, will rise superior to 
and outweigh them all. This should be one great object 
of the attention of parents in the education of their children; 
and that attention, without any immediate reference to this 
object, will best be shewn in their inculcating in them the 
observance of all the other duties of life ; for they all, as 
well as all that constitute* human happiness, are comprised 
in that state in which man ceases " to be alone,'' and 
woman to want a support* 



CCCCLXXX. 

When a vain man listens with deference to what you 
say, he pays you the greater compliment, as it is a deduction 
from the credit he assumes to himself. I beg his pardon, 
however; he will still take care to do himself ample jus- 
tice in what he reserves to his own account; and per- 
haps he will make himself amends for the superiority 
he allows to you, by what he assumes over some other 
man in company, whom he has not equal reason to re- 
spect. You see the workings of his vanity in both. 

When a vain person has any thing to communicate, he 
generally does it so as to make h appear that he thinks 
the other obliged to him for the knowledge of what 
would not otherwise have occurred to him : perhaps how- 
ever he is only afraid that he should not have credit given 
him for that knowledge, unless he took it to himself. In 
that case, he only wishes to be on equal terms with the 
person to whom he addresses himself. 

Different situations in life make but little difference in 
the dispositions which men shew themselves to be 
actuated by, though they may make a great deal in their 
manner of exhibiting them : indeed if it was not for 



193 

this, we should hardly know whether a man had been 
bred in a court or a cottage. 

Whatever a man's disposition is, there will be some 
manifestation of it, however it may be modified' by the 
circumstances in which he is placed* 



€CCCLXXXL 

When we consider what may be allowed for a time, 
we should not forget what will (or rather must) happen in 
time, when a state of maturity succeeds to the growth we 
are now witnessing. Shall I be thought trifling when 1 
say that the thinning of my own plantations * suggested 
this thought to me ? Will it not apply to more important 
concerns ? 

But what indeed is more important, in a national point 
of view, than all that is connected with the great source of 
our power, the navy ? And how is speculation con- 
founded when it looks to the future means of support- 
ing it ! How vain does it make the " esto perpetua'' 
appear ! But where indeed are we to look for stability 
except in the hopes that raise us above this earth, and all 
its concerns ? 



* The rapid consumption of timber (rapid in comparison with its 
growth) must be a subject of anxious speculation, with all the ingenuity 
that is exerciser' to eke out what remains. In the management of plan- 
tations, the necessity of the slow growth of the trees, to ensure their 
increase in size, durability, Sec, should be one great consideration, and 
should check our wish to see it accelerated, by their drawing each other 
Kt, &c, during the short terra of our natural lives. 

2 C 



194 



CCCCLXXXII. 

How irrevocably would the mind of man be lost 
in contemplating the innumerable stars that bespangle 
the canopy of heaven, if it had not the Being to refer 
to who created them, and man himself, and all above 
and all below him, all being the creatures of one great 
Creator ! 



CCCCLXXXIII. 

When the wild expanse of the moors,* rising and spread- 
ing to the eye, great as nature there appears, gives such 
enlargement to the mind, how infinitely greater must the 
enlargement be, which the expanse of the universe will 
afford, to faculties then made capable of enjoying it! 

The romantic and beautiful valley too, that 1 look down 
upon, no less declares the presence of him who made it : 
of him who is 

" To us invisible, or dimly seen 

" In these his lowest works ; yet these declare 

" His goodness beyond thought, and power divine." 

But a sudden change intervenes : the atmosphere darkens, 
the thunder rolls, peal after peal, and tells us in its awful 
voice that if the God of nature is to be adored in his 
sunshine, he is no less to be adored in his storms. 

What language can describe the effect of the artillery of 
fceavcn, when it bursts over our heads, and fills the whole 
vault around us? Thomsou, of all the poets, has best 

* Tke Western Moorlands of tlie Vale of York, 



195 



done this ; and ends his sublime description with this 

pathetic address : — 

" Shall man, so soon forgetful of the hand 
"That hush'd the thunder, and serenes the sky, 
" Extinguished feel that spark the tempest wak'd, 
" That sense of powers exceeding far his own, 
" Ere yet his feeble heart has lost its fears V* 

Arnagill Head, Sept. 2, 1824. 



CCCCLXXX1V. 
Let us pray for nothing but what God shall please to 
grant. 



CCCCLXXXV. 

If the weakness of mankind exposes them to the temp- 
tations of vice, it is generally of some use in preventing their 
vices from being carried to excess; for it is rare to see 
that degree of boldness that will overleap all dangers* 
Example and association will indeed lessen their fears of 
these ; but this creates a new danger, in rendering them 
more obnoxious to society, and more liable to discovery 
by the jealousy it raises among themselves ; for there can 
be no confidence amongst evil-doers. The " divide et 
impera" needs not to be practiced towards them; for the 
seeds of division are already sown. If their vices make 
it necessary for them to seclude themselves from society, 
there is the less danger of its suffering by them, and 
while men are sensible that it is their interest to be vir- 
tuous, vice is less likely to be predominant. Thus a thinking 
people will ever have the advantage over a light one. It 
is when God permits their minds to be darkened, that 
their hearts become hardened. 



we 

The vanity of mankind is a check upon their vices, fos 
it must be supported by the applause we receive from 
others ; and this will not be given to vice. Let us not 
quarrel with our frailties, till we are sure that the harm 
they do overpowers the good. Vanity has probably had 
its share in the greatest good, as well as the greatest 
mischief that has been done : it excited the building as 
well as the burning of the temple of Diana. Mistake 
me not, reader : I do not mean to compare the former 
with the building of better temples, much less of temples 
" not made with hands." 



CCCCLXXXVI 

What must be the feeling of him who exclaims " O 
Death, where is thy sting? — O Grave, where is thy 
victory?" And he who exclaimed it " witnessed" and 
sealed it with his martyrdom. 



CCCCLXXXVI1. 

What a narrow sphere would the mercies of God. 
have to move in, if they were confined to this life alone I 



CCCCLXXXVIII. 

There are two great dangers to society, wheu through 
the dissoluteness of its manners it is less disposed to 
restrain or to punish vice, and when through the weakness 
of its government it is less able to do it. The more vice 



197 



is tolerated, the more will Government be insulted. But 
to preserve it from this, manners as well as laws are ne- 
cessary. When the latter are multiplied, it must be to 
supply the defect of the former ; and what else will supply 
this defect ? Nothing but the interposition of Provideuce, 
through its agents on earth.* While manners remain un- 
corrupted, Government may safely trust to public opinion! 
for its support. 



CCCCLXXXIX, 

When the senses are awake, the mind must be in action. 
Different kinds of action suit different characters and dis- 
positions. A quiet and gentle continuance of action, both 
in itself and all around it, is best suited to a calm and well- 
regulated mind, especially after the '* hey-day" of youth is 
passed. Perfect repose is only made for the hour of sleep. 
All states however are most agreeable when they succeed 
each other, and the true enjoyment of them all must be in 
the mind itself. 



ccccxc. 

It is something for a man to know what he likes, and in 
some cases it is better that he should have a bad taste than 
an undecided one. If he is obstinate in it, he will at 
least give you something to animadvert upon, and to dis- 
pute with bim, which the undecided man will hardly do, 
having little or nothing to say for himself: with the obsti- 
mate man you may whet your appetite for criticism, taking 
care however that he does not give you a rough edge. 



* Encouragements however may be given to virtue, as well as punish- 
ents to vice. 



198 



There may also be more hope of curing obstinacy than of 
fixing indecision : though Solomon says, " There is more 
hope of a fool than of one who is wise in his own conceit." 
But this hope must depend upon the degree of obstinacy, 
the causes which produce it, and the disposition that ac- 
companies it. In the north of England it is not ill deno- 
minated stupidity. 



CCCCXC1. 

The great object of human life is acquirement, even of 
the dissipated man, though his is limited to the enjoyment 
of the moment : the ambitious or vain man will aim at glory, 
or honours, — the thoughtful man at knowledge, with the 
desire of which, as Cicero observes, our life begins ; and 
the extension and elevation of it here lead finally to the 
religious hope of its consummation in another world. 



CCCCXCI1. 

The uncertainty that we feel respecting all the events 
of this life, is a tacit acknowledgment of that Power, in 
whose hands all things are certain. 



CCCCXCIII. 

Every man must depend chiefly on himself : if he gave 
all the attention to his friend's wants that his own require, 
he would stand in equal need of a friend's assistance him- 
self : and the acceptance of this on the others part would 



199 



•uppose a helpless abandonment that would scarce deserve 
the assistance of a friend. It must therefore be only in 
great and particular occasions that Cicero's " vera et per- 
fecta amicitia" can be shewn: and the "vulgaris et 
mediocris" (which he says " spia et delectat, et prodest") 
must be all that is wanted or in common life can be shewn. 
And this, to make it lasting (ut delectet et prosit) must be 
mutual. Friendship that is shewn only on one side must 
probably be a burden on both : and the wish for an oc- 
casion to shew it will be more the suggestion of vanity 
than of any other feeling. 

Horace's question, " Quidve ad amicitas, usus rectumve 
trahat nos V seems to be the result of that partial reason- 
ing, and inability to combine, that so commonly shews 
itself : though he wonld probably be sensible that both 
the usus and the rectum must have their share. 



CCCCXCIV. 

There are moments, and those not a few, in human 
life, when all is harmony within, and all indicative of 
the happiness which the mind is capable of, when the 
jarring passions shall be at peace : this is most felt in 
the autumn of the year, and perhaps in that of our lives. 



ccccxcv. 

If maxims are too unfavourable to human nature, they 
will give us that opinion of it which can only teud to 
make cynics of us, and unfit us for the feelings and de- 
monstrations of Christian charity, and may disincline us from 



200 

those endeavours which will Tender us more worthy both 
©f the praise of our fellow-creatures, and that of our Ma- 
ker, who certainly does not desire us to nourish a dis- 
content with what belongs to the state we are in, or any 
sentiment that is at variance with our peace, and good 
will towards man. All that is desirable is, that we should 
be impressed with that humble opinion of ourselves and 
our natnre (which should neither be over nor under-rated) 
that will keep us sensible how much all of us stand in 
need of the mercies of our Maker, and the merits and 
mediation of our Redeemer. 



CCCCXCV1, 

Congeniality of disposition, and a certain instinct, a 
" sensus amandi," seem to be the moving principles of 
friendship ; but there must also be a sense of want, to put 
those in action. Virtue (qua "nihil amabilius") is the best 
foundation for it, as that alone " entenders us for life," and 
we may hope " for ever :" for what but the prospect of that 
futurity could make us cherish, as we do, the memory of 
the past? In that, as in all our views of happiness, we 
look to what is to come ; and the present indeed is too 
fleeting to fix our attention, and too uncertain in its dura- 
tion to satisfy our desires. 



CCCCXCVII. 

There is as much pride and vanity in an excess of 
humility, as in any degree of self conceit ; the tendency of 
both is to exalt ourselves at the expence of our reason, 
which is our best guide in the estimation and management 



201 

of ourselves ; the best, as f it is referred to for the highest 
duties that we have to perform. 



CCCCXCVIIL 

Cicero's ideas of friendship, which he puts into the 
mouth of Loelius, seem calculated to make us independent 
of each other, without lessening the sense of our dependence 
on a higher power : however, he may a little over-rate the 
motives that incline us to friendship : for if we are not 
"spe mereedis adducti," 1 think we may be said to be 
spe voluptatis ; and great part of that pleasure must consist 
in the return we meet with to the friendship we feel. If 
we trace our instincts to their source, I think we shall find 
it to be in the desire of that happiness which is our 
" being's end anal aim." 



CCCCXCIX. 

The opinions of all the Philosophical sects are I believe 
founded in reason, though with too partial views, and 
carried to excess; in this, and the consequences that 
have been drawn from them, the error consists. If Cal- 
vinism and Arminianism may, with certain restrictions, 
be made consistent with sound religion, so may stoicism, 
Epicurism, and Pyrrhonism, with sound philosophy. "Whep 
man errs, it is generally by overshooting his mark. His 
reason and his feelings have not each their due share 
of action and direction. The errors of their philosophy 
seem to have shewn themselves in the inconsistency of their 
conduct, according to Cicero. 

2 D 5 



202 



D 



Cicero's reasoning seems to aim at an intelligence of 
our nature which only He can have who gave it to us. 
If he meant to adapt it to the feelings and capacity of his 
fellow creatures, he should not have carried it farther 
than that capacity warranted : he should not have given 
them a lesson that they would not understand, or that 
they might misunderstand. 



Dl. 

It may be said of every passion, as well as that of 
anger, that " nisi paret, imperat." A more extended sense 
must then be given to " animum rege; ,? the sense that 
Horace probably meant in his 

" aequum mi animum ipse parabo." 

But what will enable us " animum regere" ? Religion. 



DII. 

My reader knows the story of the boy who told Pope 
that he had u seven sides."* If the latter had had a little 
more philanthropy, or even curiosity, he might have 
asked the boy a few more questions ; they would perhaps 
have furnished him with additions to his " Essay on 
Man:" the "nihil humani alienum" too might have 
incited him to do it. 

* The seventh being his blind one. 



203 



DHL 

What do men seek for in pride ? Elevation. How 
much better might they find it in religion ! 

DIV. 

Miserable indeed is the state, when sensuality out- 
weighs sentiment. (See page 135.) What remains to dis- 
tinguish the man from the beast ? 



DV. 

Cicero says, " utilitates ex amicitia maximae capientur." 
Is not this acknowledging that utility is at least one 
incentive to friendship ? Much of his reasoning, as well 
as that which he makes Lcelius quote from the Grecian 
philosophers, &c. tends to shew how liable men are to 
err, when they reason partially and exclusively. But 
indeed if we did not do that, what should we have to dis- 
pute about ? 

The desire of expressing ourselves strongly is one great 
source of error. Truth lies in moderation. 

Scipio says, "si minus felices in diligendo fuissemus, 
ferendum id potius, quam in inimicitiarum tempus cogi- 
tandum : v that is, we should love our friend for his sake ; if 
he prove unworthy of it, we should not hate him, for our 
own. " Praecurrit amicitia judicium," &c. Yes, so much 
there is of risque in human life. * But, says Juvenal, 
" Nullum numen abest, si- sit prudentia." W r ill not this 
hold good in friendship too ? 

* And of imprudence in human conduct. 



204 



DV1. 



Our attachment to our own opinions is something like 
that which accompanies our religious notions. " Orthodoxy 
is a man's own doxy, and Heterodoxy is every other 
man's doxy." Thus we make up for our want of know- 
ledge by our obstinacy in opinion. Have I erred then, in 
saying that obstinacy is the strong hold of ignorance ? 

The opinions of one man afford room for the obser- 
vations of another : we should be less able to assist each 
other, if we had not each other's errors to correct; en 
attendant the correction of our own, which we carry in 
" the wallet behind our backs." 

Pope says, in that beautiful part of his Essay on Man, 

" Opinion gilds with varying rays 

" Those painted clouds that beautify our days; 
" Each want of happiness by hope supplied, 
" And each vacuity of sense by pride," &c. 

And how many vacuities has pride to fill up ! How many 
are the succedaneums for knowledge, that pride has to 
boast of, aud perhaps to mistake for it ; nay, we have 
outward supplies too for our inward wants; one man's pride 
is in his wig, another's in his hat, another's in his 
coat, &c. 



DVI1. 



Habit and sympathy are the two great solaces of 
human life. The first ensures a continuance of the en- 
joyments we have been used to ; the second, a partici- 
pation in those enjoyments, or a compensation for the 



205 



privation of them, whether temporary or lasting, in sharing 
that privation with another, and in the interchange of 
reflexions which it, and what accompanies it, give rise 
to. The change, the novelty, the comparisons that occur, 
all add to this, in the great drama of human life. 
Hedcar, Sept. fr r 1824. 



DVIII. 

What compensation may we not find for the trou- 
bles or the ennuisof life, in the exercise of our own thoughts ! 
and still more in the communication of them ; and to what 
heights may they not raise us! Whatprospects may they not 
open to us! prospects, of which the wide expanse of 
ocean before me gives but a faint image. What sources 
of pleasure may not our thoughts open to us ! The best 
and only real resources against ennui (that momentary 
toedium vitas) are in our own minds, and we have but to 
think twice before we find them. Is it not for this purpose 
that an activity is given to the mind, far superior to 
that of the body ? 

Lavater says " epargnez vos minutes." Husband your 
minutes. And he is right, for life itself is but one. 



D1X. 

" Nullum dicere maximarum rerum artem esse, cum 
minimarum sine arte nulla sit, hominum est parum con- 
siderate loquentium, atque in maximis rebus errantium. v 

Cicero's simplicity has all the weight and dignity of 
truth ; will the sceptic say that analogy does not reach 



206 



so high? It reaches as high at least as we have the 
right or the power to reach ourselves. But what are 
the aspirations of the human mind ? 



DX. 

The fool says in his heart, " there is no God." The 
presumptuous or unreasonable philospher says, give me 
stronger proofs : if we had these, might we not realize 
the fable of Semele, in being unable to bear the commu- 
nication of them? Or might not our hearts still be ob- 
durate, from the absence of feeling ? 



DXI. 

The value we set upon words, and what is attached 
to them, 1 think is pretty strongly shewn in our Botan- 
ical and Mineralogical Nomenclatures : it certainly makes 
a part (though it as certainly ought not to make a 
principal one) of the recommendation of those sciences. 
But the "os magna sonans" of a Lecturer — or even a 
noviciate — Ah surely — 

'* Not a vanity is given in vain." 
and these have a fair place in Pope's list. 

Header, will you take as much of this to yourself 
as 1 do, humble as I am among the votaries of the 

goddess ? 



DXII. 

Js it not an advantage of self-love that it affords so 



207 



much amusement, in others and in ourselves ? Aye, and 
it affords food for it too, 

" Crescit indulgens sibi." 
But let us not rub this irritation till we make a sore of it. 
"Why should we not be followers of Democritus rather 
than of Heraclitus ? Are our follies worth weeping at ? 
No, that is not philosophy. 



DXI1I. 

We cannot be qualified to judge others, till we know 
what power men have over themselves. The want of 
this knowledge, with the substitution of false reason- 
ing, is perhaps the source of Calvinism. If the Calvinists 
admit a future judgment, they must make it consist in 
God's rejudging his own justice;* for what he has pre- 
determined must come from himself. 



DXIV. 

One thing that distinguishes the higher from the lower 
classes of society, is a greater degree of artificiality; 
good sense must determine whether they gain or lose by 
this. The possession of that indeed may make every 
other acquisition unnecessary ; or rather it is a foundation 
for them all : without it they can have no substance 
or value; instead of benefitting, they will injure and 
perhaps ruin us. 

How many must there be in higher life who regret their 
being obliged to act an artificial part ! Those only can 

* That is, to make it accord with their own opinions, 



208 



be satisfied with doing it, who have no real character 
of their own (none at least left to them) or none that 
they dare venture to shew. 



DXV. 

There is a true and a false liberality : one is indul- 
gence of vice, the other compassion for weakness : one 
is indifference to what is of importance; the other dif- 
fidence of our power of judging it : one in short is 
the possession, the other the want (or at least the 
perversion) of reason and feeling. Want of liberality is 
a selfish want of charity : the excess of it, is as selfish 
a profession ;* for both must begin or end in self. 



DXVI. 

There is only one case in which self, (not selfish- 
ness), is entitled to be the ruling principle ; that is, in 
that Being, in whose self all things are centered. What 
contains all things, can exclude nothing. 



DXV1I. 

It is of less consequence out of what class of society 
we chuse our companions, than what are the qualities 
of the companions we chuse; for there are good and 

* Selfish, as being an interested pretence to what we do not posses*. 



•24*) 



bad in all classes. Some regard however is to be paid 
to the opinion of the world, and still more to the pros- 
pects of another, where all the associations of this shall 
cease excepting those which religion and virtue render 
immortal. If here, noscimur — there, probably judicabimur 
" a sociis." 



DXVI11, 

Cicero says, that a man may attend to the welfare of 
his country, and his posterity, as well as to things of 
eternal consequence, even if he should consider himself 
as altogether mortal, and consequently without any pros- 
pect of a future enjoyment of the glory of what he had 
done. In this, Cicero argues as a heathen, who had 
received no assurances of a future life, and was therefore 
obliged at least to suppose it imaginary. But the Christian 
will believe otherwise, and will say, that if God has given 
to man an instinctive desire of providing for the benefit of 
those who live after him (which Cicero supposes he may 
do merely from a virtuous motive), he has also given 
him an instinctive desire of immortality, which must ne- 
cessarily be concluded to be meant to answer some pur- 
pose — (aud what purpose can it answer but its own veri- 
fication?) as well as the other. That it is meant to answer 
the purpose of its verification, we are fully assured by 
the Gospel. 

We fear Death, because it is meant that we should 
enjoy life, which is best done by doing all the good we 
can in it. 

Cicero further supposes that the soul,, being a simple 
substance, canuot be capable of dissolution, as com- 

2 K 



210 



pound ones are. This surely is fair reasoning from 
analogy: but the materialists seem to aim at a supposi- 
tion that the soul is capable of dissolution, by therr 
uniting it essentially with the substance of the body, 
which they are at liberty to do, not having any proof from 
analogy that it is of a different nature, and indepen- 
dent of the body. Negative proofs (as the incapacity of 
matter to think, &c.) they will probably answer by 
denying our power of judging of that as well as other 
possibilities. The decision therefore must be left to- 
opinion ; opinion directed by reason and feeling ; both 
which are appealed to by the Gospel. 

Socrates' reasoning, as quoted by Cicero, on the twc* 
opposite courses taken by souls on their departure from 
the body, is a fair deduction from the opposite natures of 
virtue and vice, and their consequently opposite destina- 
tions. 



DX1X. 

Cicero says, in his treatise " de senectute," " Teme- 
ritas est florentis aetatis ; prudentia senescentis." To be 
convinced of the truth of this, we have only to remem- 
ber what we were ourselves in our youth. Happy for us 
if old age has made us wiser. 



DXX. 

That there may be trials almost too great for human 
endurance, (and surely loo great without a higher support) 
I think is evinced by the effect which the alternate 



211 



repetition -of hope and fear produces on our minds, even in 
a matter so much in the natural course of things, and so 
subject to our past experience, and consequently to our 
future calculation, as the state of the weather, at a time 
when it is connected with what is so highly important to 
the interests of man* and when it operates on our minds 
as well through the medium of that connexion as by the 
immediate influence which it has on them (Machines as 
we are) in the changes which it exhibits. We begin to 
tremble under our incapacity to calculate upon the justice 
and mercy of God, ignorant as we are what calls there 
may 'be upon the one, and whether the other may not be 
withheld from all our hopes on earth, to be reserved 
for a land which is to us a perfect terra incognita. But 
sunshine returns, and all our fears vanish. 



©XXI. 

There tire feelings which are so sanctioned fey the 
hest dictates of our reason, that we cannot help relying 
upon the hope that they will be perpetuated to us in 
another world, where only they can be perfectly dis- 
played and enjoyed. 



DXXII. 

Those who have many things to thank God for 
*>ught to he most inclined to thank him for all. 



? la the Harvest Season, 



212 



DXX1I1. 



How often have we feelings excited in us, which 
we may reasonably hope will be those of our last 
moments. * 



DXXIV. 



How copious, and at the same time how imperfect is 
language, when it can express, and only express in one 
word, what it is impossible for the utmost stretch of 
imagination to conceive — Infinity — Eternity — Ubiquity ! 
one word can express them —a thousand cannot describe 
them. 



DXXV. 

There are moments in which we are inclined to dis- 
trust even our own feelings, sensible how transient they 
are, how much the sport of accident and how instrumental 
we may make them ourselves in artificial representation, 
which, unless they were really moved, could not be per- 
fect. It was probably the sense of this, that induced 
Bradford, at the eve of his martyrdom, to call the prayers 
fie uttered hypocritical, and to implore pardon for them 
as such. But this arises from the condition of our nature, 
imperfect as it is made, to suit the purposes of an imperfect 



I mean, that we shall then have the same. 



213 



state of existence. To blame ourselves therefore for 
that would be to blame the Author of our being. 



DXXVI. 

Nothing in the writings of the heathens can be more 
sublime than the " Somnium Scipionis;" nothing can dis- 
play a more astonishing anticipation of much of the 
knowledge that has been since acquired, or a stronger 
impulse to carry our ideas beyond it. The comparisons 
made in it, of this earth and of all that it contains, 
with the great assemblage of bodies that compose the 
universe, are admirable, and shew conceptions which are 
above all that the mere observation of this earth can 
bestow. The elevation of sentiment and the depth of 
reasoning are equally wonderful. A finer composition, 
or one that comprehends more in fewer words, cannot 
1 think- have been written. All that unassisted (if it 
may be called unassisted) reason can produce, is displayed 
in it. It seems extraordinary, however, that with all 
this perspicuity, and strength of reasoning, the improba- 
bility should not have occurred to Cicero of the sun and all 
the fixed stars moving round our globe, instead of tha| 
moving round the central sun along with the planets, 
which must have been observed to have motions different 
from the other celestial bodies. But in the first place, 
the deceptio visus probably precluded any better rea= 
spning : and the more, as it did not interfere with the 
knowledge of other truths gathered from astronomical obser- 
vations : the theory of different systems in the universe 
also had not occurred, though that was probably the con- 
sequence of the discovery of our own. The notions too 
which the Ancients had of Astronomy, were probably 



214 



derived from those of the prior times, confirmed perhaps 
by the information delivered to the Jews ; an information 
that we cannot wonder was adapted to the intelligence and 
capacity of men whose minds were riot yet prepared to re- 
ceive better an,d truer. It was not philosophy that was 
meant to be taught to them, but morality and religion; 
and the information given them on both these points has 
stood Jthe test of ages, and of all the objections that have 
been made to it, froni its connexion with the other infor- 
mation they received ; and the former was in fact as little 
obstructed by their astronomical errors, as the obscuration 
of eclipses, &c. was by those of the Chaldeans and other 
primitive nations. And after all, what has our boasted 
knowledge done towards our acknowledgment of still 
higher truths, which yet remain, as much, aud perhaps 
are more, disputed by sceptics, who prefer, (and probably 
also pervert) discoveries, however imperfect, made by 
their reasoning faculties, to the communications which 
both their reason and their feelings are indispensably 
bound to acquiesce in. 



Dxxyn. 

One observation, especially when productive of know- 
ledge, suggests another; as one thought does. In the 
progress of both we have probably yet much to learn. 



pxxvip. 

H Utrum sit melius, vivere, an mori, dii immortaies 
sciunt hominum quidem scire arbitror neminem." (Cicero 
Tunc id.) 



215 



So far had the Ancients got in their estimation of the 
two states of life and death. Christianity would have 
informed them that the latter was the best, as being the 
real life, for which the first was only a preparation: and 
indeed Cicero might have gathered as much from his 
•• dii immortales," and from the similar state (of immor- 
tality) which his reasoning in other places argues so 
strongly to be the destiny of man. But the assurance of 
this was reserved for the gospel. 



DXXIX. 

The desire of what is called a Radical Reform, I 
think argues very little knowledge of mankind, or attention! 
to the changes produced in society by the different states 
of simplicity, knowledge, poverty, riches, &c. which it is 
in. Each has its virtues and its vices, its advantages and 
disadvantages; and to prevent these from counteracting 
each other, in some degree, would be to destroy that 
balance which Providence has meant to exist between good 
and evil ; and it would certainly make the evil predominate 
for a while, (by the disorder it would produce) without 
any prospect of that final result of good (at least in effect- 
ing the end proposed) which Providence alone knows, 
and has reserved to itself, to bring out of evil. If 
things are well then, "let that well alone;" and if any 
thing interferes with that, let a remedy be founel that will 
lessen the evil, without the vain hope of totally destroying 
it. Those who indulge, or appear to indulge this hope,, 
act either from mistaken or from selfish motives, in following 
their own or others' errors, or the impulses of their ambi- 
tion, discontent, or some other passion. 



216 



DXXX. 

It is seldom that the spirit of opposition springs from 
any other motive than what originates in self; especially 
when considered as what its name implies and expresses ; 
this 1 think will enable us to judge of its purity. 



DXXXI. 

There could not well be a more frank, and at the same 
time a more shameless, and let me add, a more arrogant 
avowal, than what Mr. Fox, I think, makes in his history 
of James the Second's reign, viz. that Parliamentary oppo- 
sition ought not to be directed so much against measures 
as against men (and of course the measures they propose) : 
frank, as being an avowal of the principles on which he 
himself acted ; shameless, as braving all the censure that 
such a principle is liable to; and arrogant, as assuming to 
himself a right to judge independently of a man's imme- 
diate actions, to which alone (comprising the motives) 
regard ought to be had. Indeed in so judging and acting, 
a man may make a sacrifice of what would more or less 
benefit his country, and how will he justify himself? By 
the assertion, that the man he opposes could not do a good 
action from any but an evil motive. Thus he passes a sen- 
tence which we may venture to say, God himself would 
not pass, and he leaves not the opportunity which God 
has declared he will leave, for men to avoid doing ill, and 
to persevere in any course they may have begun, of 
doing well. What then are the human motives that thus 
make a man act, not in imitation of, but in opposition to, 
his Creator ? What, but ambition ? 



217 



PXXXII. 



If a man will not preserve his ouu independence 
(and this is a comprehensive, as well as a limited word) 
he will run the risk of violating the best principles be 
may have imbibed, and the best resolutions he may have 
previously formed. 



DXXXIII. 

M Licet videre, qualescunque summi civitatis viri 
fuerint, talem civitatem fuisse," &c— (Cicero de Legibus.) 

Riches, luxury, and taste refine the manners of a State, 
and at the same time lay the foundation of its ruin, by the 
food they give to all the passions. This age has perhaps 
to see how far this will be counteracted by Christianity, 
how far its influence will supersede those laws of mutabi- 
lity to which every nation has been subject, and whether 
the permanency of a " rock" will be confined to itself alone. 
All other improvements contain within themselves the seeds 
of their dissolution. From these, Christianity must surely 
be free, as having Truth alone for its basis. 



DXXXTV. 

Plato's "conjunetio potestatis ac sapientiae" may do 
much for a State, if his " docti et sapientes homines" are 
not subject, like other " doctors," to "differ." 

2 V 



I 



2J8 



BXXXV. 

What an imperfect idea of happiness must the An- 
cients have had, when they fancied it seated otherwise 
than in the mind ! But does not the same mistake pre- 
vail now? We think all others happier than ourselves. 
Happiness then is placed in what we want — Contentment* 

Pope's description of happiness perhaps only proves its 
non-existence. If it really existed, should we not know 
better how to describe it than by saying, " Happiness is 
happiness?'' Call it Contentment, still something may be 
wanting, to afford a model to draw after, for who is per- 
fectly content ? 

Pope hit his mark better when he says, 

— " Man never is but always to be blest." 

If happiness consists in the mind's being agreeably 
occupied, will not hope serve that purpose ? 



DXXXVI. 

Want of punctuality generally arises from the diffi- 
culty of finding employment for our time : if we could do 
that, it would give method* to every part of it. We 
should begin with early rising (" vegeti praascripta ad 
munia",) to have more time to do what we have ac- 
customed ourselves to do : we should not be dependent on 
the men and things around us, for the accidental amuse- 
ment or occupation of the moment, and every hour we 



* The excess of method, however, like other excesses, has its evils j it 
narrows us into slaves. 



219 



gave to that would be stolen (stolen with intention to 
repay) from some more important business (and the im- 
portance of business depends greatly on the general 
effect that it has on our habits and minds:) in being 
masters of our habits we should be masters of ourselves. 

He only employs his time well, who employs it to his 
own improvement, and a good habit will itself supply 
the place of any previous intention to profit by it. It 
is perhaps impossible to live without an object, if it is 
only the enjoyment of our ease ; but it is the choice of an 
object that is important and difficult, for many will present 
themselves to an active mind. We should then perhaps 
hold ourselves in readiness for any that may occur. Our 
dependence on ourselves will make us masters of ourselves, 
for we shall take care to make that dependence a sure 
one. We cannot know how to value our time, till we 
know how to value ourselves ; but both must have their 
limits; and both will chiefly depend on the " vitium 
fugere," which is itself an occupation, and will direct all 
the others. 



DXXXV11. 

The assumption of importance generally arises from a 
consciousness of the want of it. What great value can 
we affix to the employment of time, when the chief object 
of it is, to " wash our hands in innocence ?" This how- 
ever is sufficient to give it value. 



DXXXVI1I. 

The possession of "talents for mankind/' various as 
are the talents with which Tje are endowed, will naturally 



220 



impel us to the exercise and display of them, though we 
may somtimes have in view that " praise of men" which 
would be better and more universally obtained, if we 
directed our attention to the pursuit of higher as well as 
more reasonable objects. The sphere of utility which lies 
within the compass of each individual, is not, generally 
speaking, very extended ; and we shall fill up a greater 
portion of it, if we do not attempt to carry it beyond its 
due bounds ; if we do that, we shall be liable to the impu- 
tation of selfish vanity, which we should escape by paying 
a more real respect to ourselves, and shewing our judgment 
in making a better discrimination of the objects of our atten- 
tion than in directing it to those whose title to it chiefly 
consists in the rank they hold in society. We should 
rather look below (but not so as to demean ourselves) than 
above us, and should rather wait for due occasions to 
bestir ourselves, than solicit them; for "this also i» 
vanity.' 5 Men indeed are soon found out whose chief 
motive to action is the gratification of that passion ; they 
cannot raise their heads higher than the fair observation of 
those who are capable of making it without being either 
blinded or dazzled, will reach to. 



DXXXIX. 

It is not envy that censures a man for aiming at distinc- 
tions (however successful he may be in gaining them) that 
do him no real credit. The sense of what is due to our- 
selves, and to those who are on a par with us, or even below 
us, will generally be our rule in estimating the conduct of 
others in their intercourse with their fellow-creatures; and 
it is the best rule we can follow in this estimation, for it 
iadiates from the centre of self-love. 



2*21 



DXL. 

Pride and vanity may be equally shewn in demanding 
respect, and paying it; for ourselves or to others. The 
higher a man is raised, the more he ought to cast all sel- 
fishness beneath his feet, as being incompatible with the 
duties he has to perform, 



DXLI. 

Seeking the praise of God is seeking that of our 
own conscience, the God within us; we cannot raise our 
views higher than that ; the rest will follow of course, if we 
have been properly influenced by our reason. 



DXL1I. 

Perhaps we may presume, that the manifestation of 
qualities that really make us worthy of the esteem of our 
fellow-creatures, atones in some measure for the neglect of 
the duties of religion, and of those which ours imposes 
upon us. But this can be only when we act without the 
deliberate intention of " seeking the praise of men more 
than the praise of God." This can only be known to us 
by a thorough examination of ourselves, which it certainly 
is not our interest to defer till the latest period of life. 
We should remember, that whatever may be the merit of 
the impulses we act from, they certainly are not derived 
from ourselves ; and therefore ought not to be placed to 
the credit of our account. 



222 



DXLUI. 

The despair, or at least the depression of all earthly 
hopes, may be the commencement and elevation of all 
heavenly ones. This appears to be the present state of 
Louis XV111. (Sept. 1824.)* 



DXLIV. 

To mis authority with accommodation, to ensure the 
respect of others, without assuming too much to ourselves 
— to conciliate and to command — is one of the most impor- 
tant and most difficult businesses in social life. A certain 
degree of reserve, tempered with frankness, is perhaps 
the easiest and most e,ffectual means of doing it ; for 
it implies a command over ourselves, that ensures 
the respect of others. But the conduct must be as 
uniform as the manner. Versatility is a bad resource ; 
for if a man acts the part of a weather-cock, at what point 
can he fix himself/ A due respect to ourselves is our 
best security. 



DXLV. 

When men differ, it is generally when they get be- 
yond the reach of common sense ; if they keep within 
that, it will be a standard round which they cannot help 
rallying. The more they get beyond it, the more difficult 
is the retreat. 



* He died soon after. 



223 



DXLVI. 



Courage without feeling makes a man a tyrant, or a 
brute ; both united make him almost a God. 



DXLV1I. 

The maxim of " cle mortuis nil nisi verum" is far pre- 
ferable to " nil nisi bonum," as it is more the example 
than the person which is to be followed or avoided, and the 
influence of that example subsists after Death, when those 
who have made themselves conspicuous in the world will 
be remembered, and it is but doing justice to the memory 
of the good, to distinguish them from the bad. If nothing 
but good was to be spoken of the dead, the living would 
want one inducement to deserve well of posterity. It is 
the example we leave behind us, that is of most impor- 
tance to fnture generations ; for what is there else to 
record ? 



DXLVJI1. 

Sometimes, the more a man has, the more he wants ; 
certainly, the more he wants the poorer he is. It is not 
therefore what we call riches that make a man rich, but 
his contentment with, and his power of enjoying what 
he has. Without that, riches are but a name. 



224 



DXLIX. 



Those who make rank in life the great object of their 
attention, will be sure more or less to sacrifice their re- 
gard to real worth. 



DL. 

Men (my respect for the Ladies forbids me to include 
their sex) are now so warm in the pursuit of pleasure in 
all its shapes, that the only chance there is of their acting 
like reasonable beings, is in the intervals of rest which 
the fatigue of the chace requires, unless indeed there 
is another in their wearing out the animals of whose 
service they avail themselves in following it, though the 
improvement of pedestrianisra may exclude even that. 

Would not " the age of pleasure" be a proper title 
to a satirical poem ? How many descriptions would it 
include? But we want a Ifoung to make them. Who 
will take up his pen ? 



DLL 



There is a plainness in the character of our country- 
men that exposes them to the impulse of their passions (for 
Nature is too apt to be at variance with reason) and must 
serve as an excuse even for that want of urbanity which 
makes them so offensive to the other nations of Europe. 
You must gain the heart of an Englishman before he will 
be thoroughly civil to you, and even then there is a plain- 
ness, if not a roughness in his manner, that prevents his 



•225 



civility from being perfectly acceptable. Y ou must let him 
have his own way, at least to a certain point, to make him 
completely your friend, for he will be independent of you, 
and even of himself, as he fancies, though while he imagines 
he is master of himself, he is in fact only his own slave, 
the slave of his humours. .All these propensities require 
higher aims and more rational acquirements to subdue 
them, and to give the proper tone and direction to our 
feelings ; for it is only the right use of our reason, that will, 
make the finished gentleman, as that will give us the know- 
ledge of all our duties, under the guidance of the authority 
which has prescribed them. 



DLII. 

We must have our frailties (and who has not ?) to 
know them, and we must know them, to be on our 
guard against them. In this chiefly consists the knowledge 
of ourselves. 



DLIIL 

If a man is gruff in his youth, he will be still gruffer 
(unless he is softened down by the changes and chances of 
life) in his old age. His gruffness then is not so noisy and 
violent ; he does not bark like a cur, but he growls like a 
mastiff, and you must give him a sop, well seasoned to his 
palate, to keep him in good humour ; perhaps he may 
then let you stroke and pat him.* 



• This representation is true only when those propensities are not 

corrected by the judgment f when they are, the character improves as 

age advances, even in spile of bodily infirmities. 

3 G 



226 



DL1V. 
THERE can be no freedom, and consequently no real 
enjoyment of conversation, where there is not liberty of 
opinion ; and the only restraint a man should be under is 
what his conscience dictates to him. Jf that errs, it will 
be sufficient that others express their dissent from him, whe- 
ther it makes him sensible of his error or not ; for the same 
liberty of holding and expressing an opinion is due to them 
as to him, and they will probably have the advantage of 
number over him. But a man should take care that the 
opinion he expresses is his real one, and such as his con- 
science and his reason approve of, for which some con- 
sideration is required. Without this, he cannot expect to 
have the credit either of sincerity, or consistency ; for his 
opinions, as Cicero says, cannot take root, but are as fading 
as flowers, which they must be, if they are not founded in 
reason. Obstinacy may make them durable, in the indi- 
vidual himself, but it will give them no real vigour, nor 
will they suit the soil they are planted in, at least not 
till they have changed its nature. 



DLV. 

Cicero commends the law of the twelve tables, whicb 
made it death for any one to sing or to compose a poem 
tending to defame the character of another : placing the 
right to pronounce upon that solely in the Courts of Justice, 
where the person accused could defend himself. But if 
that is so, what shall we say to Pope's lines, 

" Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne, 
" But touch'd and sham'd by ridicule alone V* 

Cicero, perhaps, forgot that there is another court — public 
opinion— whose judgments can be only misled for a while, 



227 



Perhaps th^e vice or the folly only should be satirized, and 
the application left to the public ; which indeed poets pre- 
tend to do, under a borrowed name, as Pope has done in 
his " Timon." But this is only an evasion. After all it 
may be said, that as it is the follies or the vices of men 
that we censure, the occasion for it must be taken from 
the most striking examples of them. If we err in the 
choice, or carry it too far, it is at our own peril. It is to 
public opinion that we address ourselves. 



DLV1. 

If a man really aims at the glory or good of his country, 
lie deserves to be applauded for it, whatever that country 
*s ; for at any rate it must be peopled by his fellow-crea- 
tures, with whom, as their countryman, he ought to identify 
himself. Both Themistocles and the Seriphian then were 
wrong, in undervaluing the respective countries. Themis- 
toeles perhaps was more right in undervaluing kis man.-^- 
fSee Cicero de Se?iectute, cap. 3.) 



JDLV11. 

The Stoic who will not allow pain to be an evil, appears 
to me to have only the merit of the malefactor wljo " dies 
hard;*' that is, if the acknowledgment of pain is to be 
compared with that of guilt. ) 



DLVI1I. 



The great charm, the true enjoyment of polished so- 
ciety, is, in the right use of our reason and our feelings 



228 



this is the only source of, and security for, pleasure 
and confidence, in the intercourse between indivi- 
duals, be they of which sex they may : this gives a value 
to the most trifling things we do, to the embellishment of 
our houses, our tables, persons, &c. for the same judicious 
taste (and the more refined the more judicious, and vice 
versa) will shew itself in all our pursuits, nor will it be 
less evinced iu the extent to which we carry them, in 
which our moderation will be '* known," as it ought to be, 
" to all men." This will influence the conduct and con- 
versation of those who, if they are not induced to it by their 
own feelings, will be by their desire to recommend them- 
selves to others, in imitating whom, they may perhaps 
" assume a virtue" which they "have not-" All publi- 
cations, however light they may be, and all the exertions 
of humour or pleasantry, should have the improvement of 
society for their object, or at least they should not coun- 
teract it in the amusement they give. Let me conclude 
this perhaps too long detail with giving our Sovereign the 
credit due to him for the degree of attention which he pays 
to these objects ; and more for the real and liberal muni- 
ficence which in part at least atones for, at the same time 
that it makes us regret, the retired life that he leads, and in 
which the society of a few persons, however chosen, is a 
bad substitute for that more general communication, which 
his people wish for, and have a right to expect. It would 
be \vell if he considered how much he deviates in some 
respects from the example of his excellent Father. 

The above praises will be given him by those who con- 
tent themselves with the indulgence of the feelings which 
excite it, at a distance, which no selfish vanity or ambition 
will make them wish to lessen ; for why should they desire 
to change a situation in which they are equally capable 
with all others, of doing their duty to the Sovereign of 



229 

Sovereigns; and to his creatures, in the limited sphere to 
which their means, or their capacities, and still more their 
wishes, confine them. 

DLIX. 

Those who respect themselves, will pay the respect due 
to others, and particularly to those who hold the highest 
place in society. Let not therefore those to whom that res- 
pect is due, shun any occasion of receiving it, from appre- 
hension of its being withheld, or of any contrary demon- 
strations being shown, or from their having experienced or 
even provoked the latter : let them rather be assured that 
all snch dispositions are done away, or would be reprobated 
by the better part of society, and that they are amply com- 
pensated by the general opinion of the country : let them 
afford opportunities for the well disposed to distinguish 
themselves from the few who perhaps might act a more un- 
worthy part : if they do this, they will return from their 
rides, or whatever may have called them forth, with 
satisfaction to themselves, and to all who are near them, 
or are within reach of that information which is spread 
through all ranks of society by the public papers or other 
channels. As they deserve popularity by their conduct, 
through their Ministers, let them also acquire it by their 
personal conduct, and let them set the example which they 
surely would wish to see in others, and must consequently 
feel a satisfaction in having afforded themselves. } 



DLX. 

The formality of former times is certainly not ill ex- 
changed for the ease of the present, but in avoiding for- 
mality, we should not lose sight of all form and order. The 



230 

master or mistress of a house, for instance, should not be 
confounded with their guests (or company, if an old word 
is objected to) at the dinner table, nor even in the drawing 
room, where mutual attentions are equally required. The 
honours of a house must be done and received ; and we 
are not aware how much the neglect of appearances may 
injure realities. 



DLX1. 

" Nullum numen abest, si sit prudentia." 
How often does this maxim occur to our thoughts ! and 
how sensible we must be of our liability to violate it, both 
from the impulse of our passions, and of our best feelings! 
Perhaps it is impossible to secure ourselves completely 
from that liability, and we must be content with erring on 
the right side, if error can have that. 



DLX1I. 

Nothing can more strongly prove the varying states 
of the'human mind, than the alternate exhilaration and 
depression, agitation and calm, which it is subject to. 
They shew the mutability of every thing in this world, 
and they prepare us (for all motion must end in rest) for 
the immutability that will take place in another. 



DLXIII. 

Keeping an account of the money we receive and ex- 
pend is rendering to ourselves at present what we all must 



•231 



render at the last, to him who gave us both Hie means and 
the obligation to do it. — It is not only the spending of our 
money that we keep an account of, but of our time also, 
for it is a sort of journal that we keep ; those there- 
fore who dislike doing it (perhaps from fear) must equally 
dislike both ; and they must give a latitude to our Savi- 
our's precepts of " letting the morrow take care of itself," 
that he most certainly never intended it should have ; they 
neglect the care of " the day," which is a preparation for 
the morrow ; they leave every thing to the impulse of 
the present moment, or to mere habit, forgetting that a 
hope of the future must be grounded, even in this life, 
upon a retrospect of the past, for our past habits must 
influence our future conduct and all its consequences : 
all those then they give up, and for what ? To 
avoid doing that now which they must do hereafter ; 
to put themselves on a level with " the beasts that 
perish," which they cannot do entirely, for they will have 
no account to render, as they have no responsibility to 
fulfil. 



DLXIV. 

Those who are really good, and those alone, can have 
no evil day to put off; they have only to leave all to the 
great Disposer of events. He however will supply the 
want of goodness in the humble penitent, by granting a 
share of his own. 



DLXV. 

What excuses a wife's participation in her husband's 



232 



offences in the eye of the law, viz. her being under his 
influence, often condemns her in that of the public ; but 
this judgment, founded as it probably is on a previous 
conclusion, will not be passed, unless she shows her par- 
ticipation to be voluntary ; she may avoid this by show- 
ing it not to be participation, but submission. 



DLXVI. 

Who contemplates and admires the works of the great 
Creator? who sees him in them, adores him for them, and 
" gives him thanks for the glory" which he has displayed ? 
Man, and, on earth, Man alone. For Man then, in part 
at least, all these were surely made. 



DLXV1I. 

Providence has justly ordained, that in multiplying 
the number of our enjoyments, we should multiply that of 
our cares. Our enjoyments attach us to this world, and at 
the same time make us feel how perishable is every thing 
in it; all but the sense of having done well, and our reli- 
ance on the goodness and mercy of our Maker, in his 
acceptance of our imperfect endeavours to do it. This 
sense was the sole bequest of our Saviour to his disciples, 
whom he enjoiued to " take no thought for the morrow," 
that nothing might interfere with the great work they were 
sent upon. In this, the means and the end vouch alike 
for its truth. 



233 



DLXVIII. 



The enjoyment of a place must be in the mind of him 
who occupies it, whether it is the " cottage" of a peasant 
or a king. It' there, is the capacity of enjoyment, it will 
probably encrease with the beauties of the place, and still 
more with the society that occasionally fills it, on which 
both the king and the peasant must be in some degree de- 
pendent. As the former has the greater liberty of choice, 
he is the more dependent upon it, and more responsible 
for his exercise of that liberty, responsible both to otl 
and to himself. 



DLXIX, 



Some philosophers hold, that the universe is a whole, 
which nothing is added, and nothing taken from it — 
each part contains its own supplies within itself: their idea 
is probably founded on the necessary perfection of that 
whole, as being the work of an all perfect Being. But 
they forget, in what that whole consist-, or rather perhaps 
what lies beyond it — Infinity. Of that, what can be 
conjectured ?* 



DLXX. 

Setting a value upon trifles, unless it is given them by 
other circumstances, may be considered as a mark of an 



* Besides, to unfold the progress of material formation, we should be 
able to trace matter to its first principles. Where are they to be found 
T>ut in the First Cause of all I His fiat is all that is required. 

2 H 



234 

illiberal mind; for it seems to flow from a desire that they 
should be accepted in lieu of things more worthy of it: they 
do not mark the good-will of the donor, so much as his 
selfishness : he endeavours to deceive you into a value of 
them, by what he appears to set upon them himself: if 
his pride leads him to this, it is still selfishness. 



DLXX1. 

Accuracy in expression is not always accuracy in 
reasoning. If it were, the French would be the best rea- 
soners upon earth. Perhaps the ease of expression which 
their language affords, may prevent the ideas from being 
better digested. They certainly do not attend to the pro- 
verb, " Chi va piano, va sano." 



DLXX11. 

I do not know whether 1 shall be thought whimsical in say- 
ing, that the two most beautiful animals in the creation are 
the horse and the butterfly : the former for its general form, 
action, &c. ; the latter for the beauty and majesty of its 
outline, and its colours, (to both which its action is corres- 
pondent.) The forked animal, man, must make the most 
of his " human face divine," and the intelligence that ani- 
mates it, to vie with these. 



DLXXIII. 



There are persons in the world who are good-natured 
and senible, and at the same time easy and indulgent to 



235 

every one about them but themselves; thinking perhaps to 
atone for that indulgence and all its ill consequences 
(which however they may uot foresee) by the labour they 
take upon themselves. One is inclined to regret that such 
characters should have any but themselves to manage. 



DLXXIV. 

A true patriot should have something more in view than 
the glory of his country; or rather, he should place that 
glory in what will really benefit it — in the justice it does to 
itself and other nations; not so much in the extent of its 
power and dominion as in promoting the good of mankind, 
which it is more able and more obliged to do by the power 
and dominion it possesses. Without this, its prosperity 
will only be the forerunner of its ruin. 



DLXXV. 

When a country has many objects of interest, an ex- 
clusive attention to any one of them can never promote its 
general interest; and its having many such objects proves 
their connection with, and their dependence upon each 
other. 



DLXXVI. 

Our resentments should have self-defence only in view, 
as their object and end ; except indeed when we have the 
further view of reforming those against whom we feel them. 
Any thing vindictive will but retort upon ourselves. 



'236 



DLXXVII. 



If you should happen to meet with people who are dis- 
posed to give themselves airs, the best way of treating them 
is, not with a return of contempt (unless you think it neces- 
sary to assume an attitude of defiance) or even of disappro* 
bation, for 'tis at least an even chance that it will provoke and 
confirm them still more, but by adverting to some subject, 
or expressing some feeling, foreign it may be to their case, 
but which would do them more credit to join in, than the 
dispositions they indulge ; if they have any reason or sym- 
pathetic^feeling about them, this will awaken it; if not, 
they will go their own way, and you yours ; and time will 
perhaps make them ashamed of themselves. 



DLXXV1II. 

When we grow old, and draw near the end of life, wo 
are sensible that we have a great deal yet to learn, and 
may complain ^with Theophrastus (Cic. Tuscul.) of the 
shortness of life, and of the time allowed us to acqttiro 
knowledge in : but we are not sufficiently sensible of the 
decay of our powers in their ability to add to the knowledge 
we have already acquired ; we mistake our power of retain- 
ing that, and reasoning upon it, for the power of adding to 
it. Besides, if we have learnt enough to know how little 
our knowledge amounts to, what more have we to learn ? 
We forget that we have to " wait the great teacher, Death." 
What indeed we might learn if life were further protracted, 
would add but little more to that 

" remaining sura, 

" That served the past, and must the times to come." 



237 

The rest would be but " learning's luxury or idleness !" 
Where then is the " Ars longa, vita brevis ?" Do we 
make the best use of the time we have ? or would we leave 
nothing to those who come after us ? — So we reproach our- 
selves, with still greater reason, for having delayed the 
time of our devotional feelings till anly the " dregs of life" 
remain, for us to pour them out in expression : but we do 
not consider that it is not so much the time as the sincerity 
of our expression of them (which indeed may be weakened 
by delay) that is regarded ; that God will accept the one 
in lieu of the other, which however will not be the case, if 
we purposely delay them, for no compromise will be 
allowed. God's mercy may be that " of a moment ;" but 
in that moment what is comprehended ? We must not 
however wilfully defer it; if we do, it is at our peril. 



DLXX1X. 

Th e characters we display in our advanced age do not 
always depend on the education we have received, at least 
not on the early part of it, for it is not always in the nur- 
sery that we are spoiled. There is sometimes a germ with- 
in us, that owes its developement to other causes. What 
proceeds fiom the parent stock (Nature the parent) or what 
may have been engrafted on it, is hard to say ; we are as 
we are, and upon that, no doubt, more or less depends 
what we shall be. To determine that, it behoves us to 
know what is in our own power ; the rest we must leave to 
Heaven. 

Stiffness of manner generally proceeds from a desire to 
arrogate more to ourselves than we have a right to expect, 
or from a jealousy that others will not allow it io us. If 
this is accompanied with any affability, it must proceed 



238 



from better motives, or else from policy. Activity of mind, 
undirected by judgment, will make us run into various 
errors. We shall endeavour to court the good opinion of 
others, by attentions that we find we cannot persevere in, 
consistently with our other views ; and by that means we 
shall incur the imputation of insincerity, by what was in 
fact indiscretion. All this may be very consistent with 
philanthropy and good feelings ; and we may trust that it 
will meet with that pardon which may be expected to 
human frailty and errors. 



DLXXX. 

It is curious enough that the reason which Cicero gives, 
(Offic. ii. 18.) for our hating ingratitude is itself a sel- 
fish one. * 



DLXXXI. 

Is it not an objection (besides others) against Pythago- 
ras's doctrine of the transmigration of souls, that we should 
pass into this life from another, only to gain a further 
knowledge of our ignorance ? And what more should we 
gain in self-correction? How much less should we leave 
for the mercy of our Creator to make up? Do we doubt 
his power or his will to do it ? The gospel teaches us 
another lesson. Why should we suppose the trial pro- 
tracted ? Does the justice or the knowledge of God want 
further information ? 



See No. CCCCXCVII1, page 201, 



239 



DLXXXI1. 



Is it a stronger proof of the weakness and selfishness of 
mankind, or of the vanity of riches, that we see so much 
partiality and injustice in the wills that are made, and 
so little reparation made for it by those who have been 
favored at the expence of others, who had a stronger, or 
at least an equal claim ? Where this reparation has been 
made, the world has surely given the full portion of credit 
due to it, and the conscience of the individual has as 
surely joined in the applause. What then shall we say of 
the feelings that are not moved by these considerations ? 

If riches are so vain in the eye of our Almighty Judge, 
that he considers the disposal of them as of no consequence 
(which we cannot suppose, for why else the 8th and 10th 
commandments?) such disposals, unjust as they are, 
would not be wojth notice : but if otherwise, what may 
be expected from him who u has the sceptre and the 
rod" in his hands, and will use them in that retribution 
which justice requires ? As for ourselves, we may and 
must blame — the rest we must leave to him. " Liberemus 
animas nostras;" and let that content us. Human laws 
can only take cognizance of the rights of possession ; 
those of expectation it cannot reach, for their fulfilment 
depends on the free will of the present possessor; but 
both are equally rights, and he who violates the one, and 
he who wilfully withholds the other, are perhaps equally 
culpable. But the punishment is reserved for him who 
gave the free-will, and who alone knows the hearts of those 
who exercise it. 



240 



DLXXXIII 



The knowledge of ourselves ought to be sufficient to 
give us a mean opinion of human nature, such as it gene- 
rally exhibits itself in this world : if any examples in others 
make us more sensible of its unworthincss, it implies a 
defect in the previous knowledge of ourselves. We have, 
however, the power of self-correction : and the opinion of 
others, as well as the dictates of our reason, and our 
conscience, should regulate us in using it. 



DLXXX1V. 

There is a part of society, more fashionable perhaps than 
respectable, to which the best recommendation is the being 
able to laugh either with them (often at nothing) or to bear 
being laughed at by them. There is indeed a third re- 
source — laughing at others who are absent. And is not that 
better than seriously abusing them ? Such laughing is the 
gratification of ill-humour under the appearance of good ; 
or, to speak more candidly, of thoughtless levity. 



DLXXXV. 

The cultivation of reason is sometimes at the expence 
of feeling; and this never shews itself more disgustingly 
than in the female sex, in which such characters avail 
themselves of the protection and respect generally due to 
it, without acknowledging or appearing to feel their want 
of them. They can hardly expect that respect which that 
acknowledgment would otherwise entitle them to. 



241 



DLXXXVI. 

Idleness is said to be the root of evil. In low life it 
employs itself (for it does not stagnate) in stealing pro- 
perty; in high, in stealing reputations. It will not leave 
to others what it cannot gain itself. 



DLXXXV1I. 

It is a mixture of hope and fear — of awe and confi- 
dence—that gives the highest interest to our religious 
meditations; and all this is to be found in the Psalms. 



DLXXXVIII. 

He who is not contented with his own country 
can hardly be contented with himself. And how should 
he, when he has so little reason to be so ? But it is so 
much trouble to change one's self,— that is, one's habits! 
" Coelum, non animum mutare," is much easier. Those 
who are not satisfied (aud more than satisfied) with their 
mother country, are children whom she can very well 
afford to part with. 



DLXXXIX. 

Men in society, as at a fancy ball, may assume what 
characters they please, provided they adhere to the rules 
of propriety, and we may add, of consistency. If these 

2 I 



242 



are observed, every character will be well and properly 
performed, for the judges will be equally attentive to 
theirs. Society ought to be so regulated, that an interest, 
more or less, may be taken in every character that is 
assumed : where it cannot, neglect or avoidance can 
only follow. Society in short ought to be so regulated 
as to be a fit preparation for a still higher. For this, 
the laws have been given to us ; we can only act, with any 
confidence, the parts which are suited to the company we 
are in. Thus Fingimur, ut " noscimur a sociis." 



DXC. 



As vice and folly gain upon mankind, they awaken 
the observation of virtue and good sense, who are 
forced in their own defence to counteract them ; and 
the sense of their own interest (enforced, we may 
hope, by better motives) will range the majority on 
their side. 



DXCI. 

How are we to measure time ? — By what has 
elapsed ? It appears but as a day. By what is to 
come ? — It apears an age. What space of time are 
we to call long or short? The life of man? — we call 
it a little day. When we look back into history, we 
call the last two or three hundred years " modern times ;" 
the ages of antiquity we call distant, and even out of 
the reach of our sight, merely because we cannot look 
into them for want of their events being authentically 



243 



recorded. We consider the age which is assigned to 
the ear tli (about 6000 years) as short, without knowing 
what duration could be called long, short of eternity, 
which our reason as well as religion forbids our allow- 
ing it; and both also seem alike to forbid our allowing 
it in future. How is time itself measured ? By the revo- 
lutions of the earth round the sun and its own axis : thisis 
merely a repetition, that leaves nothing but number to re- 
cord, and what does it signify to what that number amounts ? 
If we had nothing else to look back to, how should we 
distinguish one year from another, in any number that 
may have elapsed ? Time then is to be measured only by 
what has been or may be done in it. It may indeed be 
measured comparatively, but where is the standard of 
comparison when we look backwards or forwards 
into a series of ages that have no end ? A million of 
moments or a million of years are the same in this compa- 
rison, for they bear the same proportion to an eternity 
that cannot be measured, but of whose existence we can- 
not doubt; that of time depends on the very events by 
which it is measured. Time then in itself is nothing: 
A day an hour, a minute may be long or short, according 
to what is done in it. To our sensations, time appears long 
or short, according as it is disagreeably or agreeably 
passed, in pain or in pleasure ; to our reflections, as it 
has been usefully or carelessly spent. 

It may be said, that events require time for them to 
happen in. Shall we then say, that those on which the 
existence of time depends, also prove that existence ? 

Again : Time is a portion of eternity ; as Young says, 

" From old eternity's mysterious round 



Was Time cut off," &c. 
But how can eternity, which is itself boundless, be divided 



244 



into parts, or portions? How could Time be "cutoff" 
from it, except by a poetical fiction ? What we call time, 
we consider as such ; but what is it to beings, who are 
not circumstanced as we are ? What, to the world of 
spirits ? What is meant by " old eteruity ?" &c. 
How inadequate is language to such definitions \ 



DXCI1, 

What are our Journals, Memorandums, Meteorologi- 
cal Diaries, &c. but a desire to fix the memory of the 
fleeting moment ? Happy when we can turn it to a better 
account. But how much more are we in general inclined 
to lose it in the prospect of the next! Will that afford 
any thing more worthy to be recorded ? Or will it all toge- 
ther be consigned to oblivion ? No — each as it flies will 
be accounted for. Let us then, 

" the fleeting hours secure, 

" And note each down for wisdom." 

And how is this to be done, but by habits of reflection ? 
Let not the dissipated man think, that what he loses him- 
self will not elsewhere be treasured up. The occurrence of 
the present moment is of the more value, as it is sure to 
have an influence on the next, and on all the succeeding. 



DXCHI, 

If we do not admit the freewill of man in the choice of 
good or ill, we might suppose that his reason was given 
him, only that it might be disgraced, with some few exam- 
ples of its being better used. 



245 



DCX1V. 

If we are able to speak a language without being ac- 
quainted with its grammar, we merely do it from memory, 
without any better knowledge : it is only the act of a par- 
rot, except that the bird does not attach any meaning (at 
Jeast that we know) to the words it utters. The mere habit 
of loquacity in the human species is little more than the same 
repetition ; and how many such parrots are there among the 
" bipedes implumes?" "How are you, Jack?" said a 
passer-by to a jay in a cage. " Pretty well, pretty well," 
answered the bird. Do our answers often mean any 
more ? except indeed as an acknowledgment. 



DCXV. 



How often is the want of thought supplied by 
habit ! Is not man a self-moving automaton ? His 
passions excepted, the extension or contraction of a 
single wire retards or quickens his motions. 



DXCV1. 



If an Utopian system could be realised it would 
form a machine that would be subject to new diseases 
and would require new remedies. In the natural 
course of things both are provided. It may indeed 
be a question, whether any system that man can form, 
would suit a perfect state: for all he could do, 



246 

would only be leaving out the imperfections he sees 
here; but what will lie provide in their stead? Will 
Dot his Jmacbine stand still, for want of springs to 
move it? 



DCXVIL 

Is it from our experience of the world or from our ill 
nature, that we are readier to give credit to the most ex- 
aggerated descriptions of human depravity, than to the 
most moderate ones of human goodness ? The latter 
indeed shews itself rarely, from modesty and unobtrusive- 
uess : the former is oftener seen, from its want of power 
to conceal itself. But the unclouded sight of both is re- 
served for the eye that is all-seeing. 



DXCVIIL 



The pleasure of hearing others censured, is generally 
accompanied and heightened by a compliment paid to 
ourselves. Both the pleasure and its accompaniment, 
however, wear out by frequent repetition. We are indeed 
generally prepared for the compliments paid us by others, 
by those we pay to ourselves : the sincerity of the latter, 
{for self-flattery has its sincerity) often makes us blind 
to the irony of the former. It is only self-knowledge 
that can set all this right. 



4 247 



DXCIX, 



How beautiful and how terrible by turns is that bound- 
less waste of waters, the ocean ! awful at all times in its 
immensity, but. most tremendously so in its storms, it 
presents an image of the smiles and frowns of its Crea- 
tor, whether we consider it as an agent, an instrument, 
or an emblem. By frequent beholding, indeed, it may 
lose great part of its effect upon us : a proof that we 
receive all our impressions through the medium of our 
senses, which, when they become blunted by use, cease to 
communicate them to our minds. 

Redcar, Sept. 23, 1824, mari tumescente, 



DC. 

A propensity to scandal may partly proceed from ao 
inability to distinguish the proper objects of censure : the 
many occasions there are for this might very well save us 
the trouble of seeking for objects of scandal. Judicious 
censure is no more than just discrimination : scandal 
confounds all distinctions, in disabling us from making 
them : and it destroys all the value both of our praise and 
our blame. 



DC1. 

A fanciful person (" malade imaginaire") shares the 
fate of an habitual liar, and deservedly : the latter loses 
all his credit by the frequency of his lies ; the former, 



248 



all his title to compassion by his continually fancying, or 
pretending to fancy himself ill. " Mens sana" is how- 
ever wantiug — the corpus sanum must probably be so too. 



DCII. 

The extreme of self-indulgence is self-abandonment; 
perhaps self-brutification. 



DOI1L 

There is a mode of addressing a man, which requires 
either perfect power over him, or perfect confidence in 
him : both are maintained by a good opinion of him, 
and both sanctioned by a well-grounded confidence in 
ourselves. 



DCIV. 

The reward of resignation is, the insurance of hope. 



DCV. 



There are no two qualities that are more necessary 
to accompany each other, and more difficult to be made 
to draw together than prudence and good nature: the 
extreme of one is centered in self — that of the other is 
a total abandonment of it. 



249 



DCVI. 

We should never entirely lose sight of those whose 
conduct we disapprove of, and whom we wish to reclaim 
(especially if they are any way connected with us) till all 
hope of their reformation ceases : that is, till they no 
longer exist : for in this case, as well as that of bodily 
illness, " while there is life there is hope." 

If a man shewed any sign of right feeling, we might 
give him our approbation, even if we doubted his sincerity : 
it might induce him to the continuance of it, which, in be- 
coming a habit, would beget a second nature. Distrust may 
bring on desperation. 



dcvii. 

When we have left the paths of rectitude, and are 
determined not to return to them, our only resource 
against the betrayal of conscious shame is in assuming an 
air of impudence, whieh gives the last finish to every kind 
of depravity. Those who are in this state need not fear 
their being put to this trial before others who have better 
sentiments, since the latter will avoid their society as much 
as possible. 



DCV1I1. 

The smallest trifle from one whom we love and esteem, 
is of more value to us than the most important communi- 
cation from one who does not excite those feelings — and 
why ? Because it comes frorn a person who deserves our 

•■ 2 K 



250 

Confidence, and who will return it? A well-grounded 
confidence in ourselves is the best title we can have to 
the confidence of others. 



DCIX. 

In scholastic disputation, and even in studious me- 
ditation, we are apt to satisfy ourselves with being 
able to give an immediate answer to a question with- 
out considering the questions that still remain behind 
it. Thus we pay ourselves with words. When we con- 
sider the subject more deeply, we find how small is the 
amouut of the knowledge we have displayed. But even 
learning has its vanities : these, however, are but a super- 
ficial consolation ; the goodness of Providence has given 
us a better, in making the sense of our ignorance an ex- 
citement to know more in this life, and to hope for the 
attainment of perfect knowledge in ihe life to come. 

The power of expression, and that of conception, are so 
interwoTen with each other, that we are unable to distin- 
guish (if they can be distinguished) between them. Varied 
expression indeed may add to knowledge, by placing a 
subject in a new light. But, after all, what more do we 
gain than tropes and figures ? — what more than the sub- 
stitution of representation for reality ? — what more than 
similitudes ? Shall 1 be guilty of a pun, in saying that the 
word reflection implies it, by signifying the mirror in which 
the image is " dimly seen ?" 

DCX. 

How majestic is the sea, when it is agitated by storms ! 
How is that majesty lowered, when we consider it as 



251 



being merely acted upon by another element, the wind! 
And how do both sink in our estimation, when we look up 
to him, whom both the winds and the waves obey ! 



DCXI. 

A man who knows what it is to be cheerful here, will, 
we may hope, know what it is to be happy hereafter. 
His state of mind will surely fit him for both. But how 
different is the state of him who laughs from the mere 
ebullition of his spirits, with nothing but their native 
warmth to excite it, from him who calmly examines his 
mind to know whether he is content or not : but which 
will be the most permanent, impulse or thought? If the 
mind is fully occupied, is not that enough? Better indeed 
if the occupation is an agreeable one : but from how many 
sources may exhilaration of mind proceed ? 



DCXII. 

How many objects that are well worthy of attention 
would be comparatively neglected, if they did not meet 
with an able describer to draw that attention to them ! 
Among these I would rank the city of Iseur or Isurium, 
now the borough (no longer a city) of Aldborougb, so in- 
teresting as a British and Roman antiquity, and so well 
described by the honest and able old antiquarian Hutton, 
in his trip to Coatham, in 1810. 



DCX11L 

The doctrine of Christianity was taught by our Saviour, 



252 



after the minds of men had been prepared for it by the 
miracles exhibited to the Jewish nation, and those 
performed by Christ himself; without which, in all pro- 
bability, that doctrine would not have been received— 
" If ye believe not me, believe my works." That this 
would have been the case we may presume from the 
necessity the heathen priests were under, as is observed 
by Hutton, quoting from Hargrove's History of the 
British monuments at Aldborough, of " teaching what 
the most enlightened of them did not believe." The 
people's minds were not prepared for a spiritual doc- 
trine : a grosser worship was therefore imposed upon 
them. Let this speak for the truth of Christianity. 



DCXIV. 

Who that thinks seriously of himself does not find 
some matter for regret, humiliation, and apprehension? 
Happy if those feelings atone for the consciousness 
which excites them. But what would they do without 
another atouement ? Will the answer be, they would 
do as Socrates, Plato, Cicero, did? They might, and 
we know that those heathens will be "judged by their 
own laws." But if that judgment is worthy of the 
goodness, and even of the justice of God, were the 
laws themselves worthy of a Being who is perfect himself, 
and who has given us a model of perfection to imitate ? 
From whence, and on what errand, did that model 
and that Atoner come ? Can we, ought we, to regard him 
with any other feelings than those of the adoration which 
he himself has claimed? If we follow other laws and 
other conditions, they must be of our own framing, and 



253 



le at our peril : the " blood" that the Jews called 
for, " on their own and their children's heads," may be 
upon ours. 



DCXV. 

It may be said, and perhaps truly, that in this world 
vice is its own punishment, and virtue its own reward ; 
but are we reformed by the one, or satisfied with the 
other? And what is the greatest reward that virtue can 
give, but the hope of a still greater ? And the same may be 
said of the punishment of vice, in the fears it excites. If 
these are the retributions meant, they can hardly be final, 



DCXVI. 

One of the best disposals of the riches of this world is 
in the employment of industry ; and the satisfaction it 
gives us (besides that of the fulfilment of duty) in gratify- 
ing our desires of improvement, embellishment, &c. through 
the agency of others, ought to dispose us to the discharge 
of a further debt to society, to God, and to our own con- 
sciences, in affording relief to those who are disabled by 
sickness, age, or other infirmities or misfortunes, from earn- 
ing it by their labours, and protection and instruction to 
those whose advance in life has not yet enabled them to 
earn it at all. 

One of the best employments a mau can engage himself 
in, is in finding employment for others ; and this there 
are various means of doing : the best is what improves the 
mind. 



254 



DCXVII. 

It must be acknowledged that our passions are power* 
ful misleaders, and their power consists in the immediate 
gratifications they afford : it is experience only that makes 
us know the price that we must pay for them. 



DCXV1I1. 

The life of a man ought to be of as much consequence in 
the eyes of another, as it is little perhaps (except as far 
as relates to another life) in the eye of God. For what is 
the gift of that, in proportion to what he has to give ? 



DCX1X. 



There is nothing new under the sun. The common 
observation, common experience, and common sense of 
mankind, would suggest the same ideas to them (as far as 
the state of society allowed it,) and their common passions 
would afford the same matter, more or less, for them. 
Nothing then remains, but the varied expression of thought 
to gratify that love of novelty which is also so common to 
man, and which induces the same changes in his expres- 
sions, which are the exterior exhibitions of his mind, as it 
does in his dress, which is that of his person. As society 
advances in refinement, these changes tend to its improve- 
ment : when that has arrived at its height, (so powerful is 
the love of change) they produce its degradation. Those 
observations must have been made a thousand times ; and 



•265 



if there is any thing new in what I write, it must be in the 
mode of making and expressing them. Whether there is 
or not, I leave to you, Q gentle reader, to determine. 



DCXX. 

It seems difficult to conceive how happiness can be 
placed in the contemplation of that enjoyed by another, 
without any desire to participate in it ourselves ; and yet 
we may take a pleasure in contemplating the happiness of 
another, and be content with that which the sentiment 
itself affords us; but is there not something forced in this 
content? It must surely be maintained by another hope, 
that of gaining the affections of a third object, to which the 
mind looks through the medium of the earthly one. For 
what higher contemplations, what more refined abstrac- 
tions can there be, than those which religion suggests ? 
— suggests, perhaps sometimes without our being con- 
scious of them. If God has placed his " temple in our- 
selves," it must surely be, that he may be adored there. 
How are we to separate all ideas of perfection, and con- 
sequently of adoration, from him who is the centre of it? 
Our regards must have an object, and if we withdraw 
them from ourelves, it must be to place them on him : that 
is, if they are such as are worthy of his acceptance. 
That acceptance then must be the ultimate object of our 
regards and our wishes. 

Detail seems unnecessary to enforce what common 
feeling should itself suggest; but it is the defect of that, 
which detail is wanted to supply. 



256 



DCXXI. 

Deistical notions, and their counterpart, Unitarian- 
ism, must I think arise from our elevating the idea of 
power above all those of moral perfection — indeed almost 
exclusively, or at least independently. Does this proceed 
from the baseness of our nature, that wants to be awed 
into submission ? Or is it our pride, that places that 
sentiment upon a throne, on which we may worship our- 
selves in it? 



DCXX1I. 

If we would be proud, let it be a generous, and not 
a selfish pride. To be proud of what is really worth it, 
can hardly be called pride. What did St. Paul " glory 
in?" All selfishness must be injurious to another: such 
is the indulgence of passion, even when another is the 
object of it ; for self-love suggests it, and it is at va- 
riance with reason ; both forbid its permanency, and both 
will change it into hatred, unless a better sentiment 
intervene. 



DCXXIII. 

There is a kind of self-indulgence, that by the languor 
and inactivity it throws us into, may secure us in some 
measure against the allurements of vice, but equally debars 



257 



us from a progress in virtue. It makes us discontented with 
ourselves, and all around us, except those who flatter and 
encourage our propensities by a false compassion for bodily 
infirmities, to which they in reality are not owing, or if the 
latter have any share in producing what we feel, it must 
be owing to the habits of self-indulgence which first 
brought them on, and to the mistaken pity and sympathy of 
those (who are too often our nearest relatives) who proba- 
bly have been accessary, by the same indulgence, to their 
first beginnings 



DCXXIV. 

Nothing is more selfish than human vanity: all its 
pursuits tend to its own gratification ; in its greatest efforts 
to promote the good of others, which it often makes in a 
manner that betrays itself, it has this in view; audit will 
not scruple to make the most sacred observances subser- 
vient to the attainment of it. And what is the consequence ? 
It gains the outward applause of those whose interest it is 
to give it; and if they are not also blinded by folly, they 
will join the more judicious and less interested, in the dis- 
approbation and perhaps contempt with which they speak 
of it. 

The vainest men arc generally so dissatisfied with, or 
so conscious of their personal* claim to distinction, that they 
make out the deficiency by borrowing from others, as 
Scaliger did from the Scalas of Verona, to whom he pre- 
tended to be allied. Had he been content with what the 
world allowed to his erudition, he would have had much 
more consideration given him than he arrogated to him* 
self. But he was probably as much laughed at as admired. 

* i.«. The defects of it, 
2 L 



258 



DCXXV. 



So much is required to humble our pride, and such is 
the encouragement it meets with in our passions, and in the 
incense offered to it by the world, that the strongest admo- 
nitions, and from the highest authority, would be insuffi- 
cient to produce this humiliation, were not the misfortunes 
and adversities of life sometimes called to their aid, to re- 
mind us of what we are, and what we may be. 



DCXXVI, 

To conciliate at once the respect and good will of man- 
kind, is the highest satisfaction this world can give. This 
may be done by shewing a general civility and attention, 
even with a certain degree of reception and intercourse, 
but with that discrimination and occasional reserve which 
is due both to others and to ourselves. This will suffici- 
ently mark our opinion of each individual ; and those 
whom we receive from mere civility will be less likely to 
avail themselves of it, as their ill habits will meet with 
little encouragement, either from the countenance they re- 
ceive from us, or from the society which their intercourse 
with us throws them into. This supposes, and must be 
confirmed by, that respect for ourselves that will ensure 
to us the esteem of all whose friendship is worth our cul- 
tivating, and which we shall feel ourselves that we deserve. 



DCXXVII. 

If the term of selfishness could be applied to patriotic 



259 



feelings, perhaps there never was a stronger instance given 
of it than in the American revolution ; — those of that peo- 
ple, in the ardour they shewed to emancipate themselves 
from their subjection to a country from which they origina- 
ted, and by whom they had been assisted in their infancy 
and their growth ; those of the British nation, in their 
desire to retain under their dominion a people who had a 
claim to independence from the maturity they had arrived 
at, strengthened by the rigour with which the mother coun- 
try exercised its authority over them, and by exactions f6r 
which the exercise of that authority was the chief founda- 
tion. When children are arrived at a certain age, they 
have a right to share in the enjoyments and privileges 
which the parents themselves possess, and to use that dis* 
cretion in governing themselves, which they have attained 
the age of. If this cannot be done by a closer union, and 
on more equal terms, with the parent state, the connexion 
between them must be regulated by the distance which 
separates them ; a connexion which is more likely to be 
lasting, as it is founded on the rights and interests of both 
parties. The assertion of thet>a ought to be founded on the 
general laws of nations. 

The claim that a man asserts to judge and act for himself 
as a citizen of the world, must depend on his right to disre- 
gard the interests of his own country, when he considers 
the assertion of them as at variance with the justice due to 
another nation ; and he makes perhaps a still stronger as- 
sumption, in considering himself as being justified in de- 
taching himself from those interests, in arrogating to him- 
self a right to judge of the justice of them, and to act upon 
the judgment which he forms. Has he well weighed his 
qualifications for this ? 



260 



Dcxxyui. 

" Leves dolores loquuntur : ingentes silent." 

Certainly, in cases of real suffering ; but in represen- 
tation, whether dramatic or historical, there must be some 
expression, some description, some detail, to excite sym- 
pathy, and fix attention, unnatural as that expression 
appears when it comes from the sufferers themselves, espe- 
cially when great bodily pain is added to their sufferings. 
We may blame, but still we admire and are moved : nor 
perhaps is there any other means of exciting thoroughly 
those sensations* Our feelings are too dull to allow us to 
make the case our own, without it is so represented ; it is 
only in real cases, "quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus," 
that the expression can and must be omitted, and the mind 
of the spectator left to its own interpretation of what it 
sees. Exceptions may be made of cases where the mind 
rises superior to the " ingens dolor," and can explain what 
it feels ; but there compassion is lost in admiration. 

Whatever is labored cannot appear natural. Is it when 
a man endeavours to expresswhat he feels, and to find con- 
solation for those feelings, that we are 11 withhold compas- 
sion from him ? 

Do we require him to pay us the compliment of making 
us interpreters of his feelings, to submit his case as well 
to our intuition as to our compassion ? — or do we think 
ourselves competent to judge of his feelings by that intui- 
tive knowledge, which He " to whom all hearts are open" 
alone possesses ? A proof of sincerity we may and must 
require ; and this must be given in some exterior and 
sensible demonstration. Perhaps we are too apt to ex- 
pect that pure and unmixed feeling which is incompatible 
with the complicated nature of man. 



261 

Strong description of natural feeling is the highest 
merit of a portraiture of human life. 



DCXXIX. 

The comparison between virtue and vice is like that 
between gold and the baser metals : a little of one is of 
more weight than a great deal of the other. 



DCXXX. 

The balance between good and evil is so nicely poised 
in this world, that the preponderance on the side of the 
former is perhaps little more than sufficient to save the 
world from the dreadful state it would be thrown into, if 
evii were to predominate. 



DCXXX1. 

Where is the medium between the slavish doctrine of 
passive obedience and non-resistance, and the ungovern- 
able principles of democratic license ? What is the state 
that will secure the subject's obedience to the laws, and 
prevent the Sovereign's abuse of them ? If such a medium 
and such a state is to be found, it must be in the English 
Constitution. Long may it continue ! 



DCXXXII. 

There are some books, of which, however amusing and 
even interesting they are, it may be said, that the quicker 



262 



we read, and the sooner we forget them, the better; but 
will they leave no impression behind them ? If they do 
not, perhaps the greatest mischief they do is, the unfitting 
us for receiving any impression at all. 

Among the books above alluded to, are those which 
insinuate that a man may act a double part, and yet still 
be an honest man. Such is the moral of the American 
" Spy." There seems to be a reputed sanctity in some 
human interests, that supersedes all the obligations of 
higher interests and laws. This " suprema lex" is in 
the objects of our own attachments. The Author of the 
" Spy" has made his hero (" Harvey Birch") place his 
honesty in taking money only from the enemies of his 
country, of course with a design to betray them ; and he 
disgraced his friends by making them (at least their leader, 
General Washington) parties to his frauds. Query, from 
which did he deserve hanging most? Neither has the 
author consulted the credit of Washington more ; for he 
has made him act the part of a weak and cruel man, in con- 
firming the sentence of condemnation of a man whom he 
had every reason to believe innocent, from a personal in- 
quiry which he had given himself the trouble of making. 
In short, the "tale" is made interesting at the expense of 
moral justice, and sometimes of probability and consis- 
tency. Will a sensible American thank the author for it ? 



DCXXXIII. 

Religious feeling, though by no means melancholy 
in itself, yet requires a seriousness that approaches to 
it, and which is produced by the united operation of 
reason and feeling. These cannot fail to lead to it. 



•263 



DCXXXIV. 

If the doctrines and miracles of Christ failed of their 
effect on the Jews, tliey produced it in the Martyrs. 
The minds of the first were hardened by prejudice and 
pride. Those of the second v/ere open to reason : they 
gave up all the enjoyments, and endured all the sufferings, 
which this world can produce, for all the happiness that the 
next has in store. That they were equal to this must be 
ascribed to more than common fortitude. 



DCXXXV. 

Transcendent as the joys of heaven are, beyond all 
possibility of human conception, and impossible as it is 
for us to conceive the mode (I do not say the merit) by 
which they are obtained ; what " has not entered into 
the heart of man to conceive," is felt by that heart with 
the highest hope and confidence of its reality. If we con- 
template the bed of the dying Christian, and see his coun- 
tenance beaming with the expression of all that is in per- 
fect contrast with those vices and that hardness of feeling 
that excite our horror and aversion even more than our 
pity, we cannot doubt of the certainty that his hopes will 
be fulfilled ; unless we doubt also of the goodness and 
justice of God, and even of his existence ; for we deny him 
that, in denying him his attributes : without them he cannot 
exist. 



DCXXXVI. 

It would be derogating from the object of our highest 
regard, to suppose that any other enjoyment but the 



264 

contemplation of that, was necessary to the happiness of a 
future life. 

" And shall not praise be His ? not human praise, 
" While heaven's high host on hallelujahs live V 



DCXXXVII. 

W E cannot keep our minds constantly worked up to 
their highest pitch ; we cannot maintain those thoughts 
and feelings which it is capable of, and which alone will 
satisfy it; but we can at times enjoy them, and the time 
will arrive when that enjoyment will be perfected, and 
made permanent. 



DCXXXV111. 

The enjoyments of this life are to be had by fits 
and starts only ; but there is a more solid and lasting 
one which may accompany them all — Utility. 



DCXXXIX. 

The question between Theoretical Reformists and 
those who wish to preserve things in their present state, 
with occasional ameliorations, is the more difficult to 
settle, as the former judge from abstract ideas of their 
own of the degree of purity to which a Constitution 
may be brought, and make no allowances for the 
changes produced in society by the advance of civili- 
zation, prosperity, luxury, &c. and instead of setting 
one evil to counteract another (as must be done in all 



265 



human affairs,) and applying such remedies to abuses that 
may creep in, as the times will admit of, they would use 
such only as would suit the state of simplicity that existed 
before the advances above-mentioned had been made, 
or rather that exists only in their own imagination. 



DCXL. 



The Epicureans, who made the enjoyment of present 
happiness the motive for a virtuous life, seem to have 
acted consistently with that, in excluding any expectations 
of future happiness, or even of existence in a life to come. 
But they forgot that it is that hope alone that constitutes 
the best part of the happiness of the present moment. 
Their object seems to have been to make us more satisfied 
with the enjoyments of the present life than we are 
capable of being made. 



DCXLI. 

The thought of death is no doubt the best preparation 
for it, and, as Young says, — 

" the sole victor of its dread. v 

We may add with Cicero, " cum illuc ex his vinculis 
emissi feremur, minus tardabitur cursus animorum ;" or, 
and we may add, rectius dirigetur. 



DCXL1I. 
Many are the advantages, both in governing others an$ 
ourselves, which are lost for want Of patience. 



266 



DCXL1II. 

There is a point at which resignation must stop; that 
is, when we are called on to sacrifice our eternal interests ; 
but to suppose that possible, would be to blaspheme against 
the mercy and justice of our Creator ; to give up our trust 
in these would surely not be to " glorify God." * 



DCXLIV. 

How strongly do the partial, varying, and dubious obli- 
gations of the world, assure us of the equal, certain, and 
inviolable ones of the next ! What we owe not to God, we 
cannot owe to man. But what we really owe to man we 
owe (and more) to God also. 



DCXLV. 

One of our chief prayers ought to be, that our trials may 
be proportioned to our power of endurance, or rather to the 
power that will be given to us. 



DCXLVI. 



It seems to me, that the Calvinists, in adopting the doc- 
trine of predestination, confound the pre-determination of 



* This is meant to allude to a Spanish S<unt Theresa, who is said to have 
made a solemn renunciation of her expectations of future happiness, that 
she might be virtuous and religious from disinterested motives. 



267 



God with his prescience : if we admit the latter, we must 
conclude that he foresees whom he may elect, to have 
mercy upon them, on the conditions that he has laid 
down: otherwise we must suppose that experience is 
necessary to guide him, or that he is influenced by the 
inclination of the moment, which would imply a versatility 
incompatible with his nature. He has stated the condi- 
tions on which he will pardon, viz. repentance and refor- 
mation : in this general statement, he has not particu- 
larized the cases or objects on which that pardon will 
be bestowed, but has reserved to himself to " have mercy 
on whom he will have mercy :" a power which is assumed 
even by an earthly judge. If we are to add predesti- 
nation,* it must be in regard to the merit or demerit of 
each object, in observing or violating the conditions he has 
laid down ; leaving to them the free-will of doing either. 



DCXLVII. 

We cannot over-rate the power of God ; but we must 
remember that the exercise of that power is to be regu- 
lated by his other attributes of goodness, justice, &c. ; 
and it is but reasonable to suppose that in exercising his 
power, he would leave room for the exercise of the 
other attributes also. What room would there be for 
justice, if there were no discrimination to employ it? — 
or what would be the character of that justice, if 
it was not tempered with mercy ? All the previous 
ordinations of God then must be in accordance with 
the exercise of all liis attributes ; and if there is an appa- 

* Or rather prescience. 



268 



rent sacrifice of any, it must be to preserve the equable 
proportions of them all. In this, as in other cases, as 
far as human practice can be carried, it is done with an 
endeavour to imitate God. 

"We are too apt to suppose, that God himself is bound by 
a necessity which he cannot free himself from ; and that 
in the qualities that compose his nature, there is an 
inherent essence (which in fact is his own essence) that he 
cannot alter. Indeed, if we ascribed this power to him, 
we should ascribe the power of self-annihilation. How 
then would he be eternal ? 

While we allow every thing to emanate from God, we 
perhaps accompany that allowance with an idea that 
something emanates to him, from another source ; but 
where are those references to end ? Something must 
exist of itself; and what can, but God ? The research of 
causes must be endless, till we can comprehend the exist- 
ence and agency of a First Cause : our admittance of 
that, then, is a matter of necessity, more than of com- 
prehension. 



DCXLV11I. 

TRUE liberality is better expressed by the name of 
Charity : such charity as St. Paul describes. 



DCXLIX. 

There is only one character in which policy and prin- 
ciple may be said to be closely united ; that is, in the reli- 
gious one. Por the courage it inspires, let us look to the 
martyrs. 



269 



DCL. 

Theke are some who have deserved so well ol thek 
country, and of mankind, that we are almost- tempted to 
wish that they had some bodily or mental sufferings to 
awaken their feelings aud give them those few, but most 
important virtues, which they seem to want, to make them 
truly estimable. These they cannot soar above, nor 
dispense with, with impunity. 



DCL1. 

If it was an objection to a maxim that it had some per- 
sonal allusion, it would include every moral maxim that 
can be made; since there is none but has some, various and 
universal as are the faults of humanity, even in the great- 
est characters. 



DCLI1. 

Perhaps the convivial man has never been fairly and 
completely described : he has generally been too favorably 
or too unfavorably represented ; the first by those who con- 
sidered him as being free from austerity ; the second by 
those who considered him as being disinclined to serious- 
ness. Indeed, the character, like all other human objects' 
may be viewed in opposite lights. 



270 



DCL1U. 



We are the less able to judge of what may be called a 
state of grace,* as we are hardly able to distinguish those 
who may be said to be " not far from the kingdom of 
heaven." 



DCLIV. 

If there are some serious things of which we may be 
allowed to speak ludicrously, it must be when we allude, 
not to the use, but to the abuse of them. 



DCLV. 

Levity is sometimes a refuge from the gloom of serious- 
ness : a man may whistle "for want of thought," or from 
having too much of it. 



DCLV1. 

The mind that would exert its powers to their utmost 
pitch will feel a pleasure in being greatly lost, as it is in 
considering the past, the present, and the future ; the 
second is almost imperceptible from its littleness ; the first 



* Let not the illiberal worldling call this cant. 



, 



27 J 



and last baffle ail the powers of vision or conception by 
their immensity. 

That there will be a time when time itself shall be no 
more, when a general judgment will take place, and when 
" the heavens and earth shall pass away," we are assured by 
the scriptures, and therefore must believe : when and how 
this will happen, we are totally unable to conceive ; He in 
whose sight " a thousand years are but a day" — He, who, 
being himself infinite in duration as well as in extent of 
being, embraces the whole universe, and also pervades the 
minutest parts of it, — He alone can tell. He alone can 
tell when 

" His unsuffering kingdom yet shall come." 

To him all portions of time are alike; for none can bear 
any proportion to eternity. His will is always present, 
always effectual; for what he wills " is done." 



DCLVII. 

We seem to overstrain our ideas of the power of God, 
when we suppose that he might have created abetter order 
of things than he has done : we contract that power when 
we suppose that he is bound by those qualities that neces- 
sarily form his nature. If he can bring good out of evil, 
what matters it which he employs ? or rather, perhaps, 
what power have we of discriminating between them ? 
None, but what his instructions have given us, and that 
only relative to our own actions. 



DCLV1II. 

It is the more difficult to move us by declamations 



272 



against the practice of immoralities, as, to feel the effects of 
them, we must consider the admonitions as directed against 
ourselves ; and this we are unwilling to do. But, weak 
and erring as we are, and liable to the impulse of our 
passions, who shall take the helm, when so many tempests 
assail us ? "Who ? Look we not up on high ? 



DCL1X. 

The best claim we have to the mercy of our Creator 
(next to the atonement that has been made for us) is our 
acknowledging and feeling how much we stand iu need of it. 



DCLX. 

The best reason that we cau have for desiring to obtain 
a competency and independence is, that we may avail our- 
selves of it, in making the best use we can of the faculties 
that are given to us, for the benefit of our fellow creatures 
and ourselves. 



DCLXI. 

The lenity shewn by human laws must arise from a 
doubt of criminality, and a hope of reformation : the mercy 
shewn by God must be accompanied by a full knowledge 
of both. 

If the justice of God were not tempered with mercy, 
would he have taken that means of satisfying it, in the 
sacrifice of his only son? Those who doubt of that sacri- 
fice must consider how an equivalent must otherwise be 



•273 



found. Are we to expect that the exercise of power 
should preclude that both of justice and mercy ? What is 
the fact? That we are free agents, and that we have 
abused that free agency. The " suramum jus" may be con- 
strued into untempered justice, which would be " summa 
injuria." But justice, as well as mercy, must be consis- 
tent with itself, and neither must infringe upon the other. 
How well then have both been satisfied by the sacrifice 
of Jesus Christ ! 

The disposition to obey the commands of God, and to 
believe in the bible, and ail that it records, are inseparable 
from each other; for where else are those commands to be 
found? And if we trust to the authority of the bible in 
one instance, must we not in the other also? If, instead 
of that, we select from the bible only what suits our 
inclinations, we form a code for ourselves. God's dealings 
with his creatures cannot be in the nature of a treaty 
or negociation with them : if it were a mutual contract, 
it would imply the possibility of violation on either side. 
Where then would be the ground for implicit con- 
fidence ? — where the opinion of, and trust in, perfect 
integrity ? 



DCLXIL 

One would think that by " eluviones, exustionesque 
terrarum, quas accidere tempore certo necesse est," Cicero 
meant (in the " Somnium Scipiones") something more 
than the common operations of nature ; which, however, 
by " ne diuturnam quidem gloriam," he appears not to 
have done. 

What follows this, — "qui ante nati sint? qui nee pau- 
ciores, et certe meliores fuevunt viri," reminds us of 

2 N 



274 



Horace's " iEtas parentum pejor avis," &c. Cicero and 
Horace appear to have been both " laudatores temporis 
acti." 



DCLXI1J. 

It is said that familiarity breeds contempt, but it may 
also be said that it breeds endearment; and this is no 
where more exemplified than in our attachment to our own 
homes. This prevents that unsatisfied desire after happi- 
ness that haunts us every where else. It has been said 
that we are happy every where but where we are not : and 
every place that pleases us by its beauty only suggests the 
idea of something still more beautiful :* but as the mind 
must have something to repose itself in, it recurs continually 
to the home it has been most used to. But as there is 
another and more lasting home to which it is destined, it 
becomes at last tired with the temporary one which it 
enjoys here, to which however it still clings, as not being 
yet fully prepared for another. 



DCLXIV. 

In whatever light the mystery of our redemption is 
placed, it must still remain incomprehensible by us, nor 
can we expect either the necessity there was for it, or the 
manner in which it was affected to be made less so : all 
that we can reasonably expect is to have the truth of it 
ascertained by comprehensible and sufficient evidence ; and 



* Our attempts to realize beauty by artificial representation, is a further 
proof of our imperfect satisfaction with every thing that we see. 



275 



this has been done : done sufficiently to require all the 
returns of gratitude, adoration, and obedience that we can 
give. 



DCLXV. 

All the relations that subsist between the creature and 
the Creator, if not totally different in their nature, must at 
least be infinitely superior in their degree, to any that can 
exist between man and man. 



DCLXVI. 

During the three years in which the object of Christ's 
mission was fulfilled, he lived in the abandonment of 
every comfort, (" not having where to lay his head") except- 
the supreme one of doing " good," and finished it by a most 
painful and ignominious death. This was a *' stumbling- 
block to the Jews," who expected a deliverer of a very 
different kind, and " foolishness to the Greeks," who saw 
nothing in it but the self-sacrifice of the Creator under a 
very abject form, to mend the work which himself had 
made ; " but to the Christian, it was the power, the wisdom, 
and the goodness of God :" power displayed, and at the 
same time sacrificed in the exercise of the highest degree. of 
benevolence, (" Oh how Omnipotence was lost in Love !"*) — 
and wisdom shewn in the formation and execution of a plan 
which, however little we may comprehend it, required the 
exertion of those three attributes. The greatness of our 



* Young's Night Thoughts. 



276 



Saviour's bufferings attest tyotb the greatness of the object, 
and of what was required to answer it. The simplicity of 
the narration attests its truth. 



DCLXVII. 

We cannot know what confidence we may put in our 
own powers, till we have made a thorough trial of them, 
and till we have ascertained how far they are equal to the 
subject we employ them upon. 



DCLXV1II. 

The satisfaction that some people feel in the result of 
their thoughts upon serious subjects, seems to depend 
upon their filling up the intervals, between the recurrence 
of those thoughts, with action.* This affords them a suf- 
ficient diversion, whenever those thoughts begin to make 
them uneasy. Some thoughts afford a refuge from dis- 
quiet, — others oblige us to dissipate them by their giving it. 



DCLX1X. 

The pain of dying 1 believe is often lessened, if not 
wholly removed by the senses becoming confused, and 
the mind losing the power of dwelling on its situation. 
Such may be the state of many a poor sailor, at the 
moment I write this, on the stormy night of Oct. 11, 1824. 

* A$ being the result of thoje thoughts. 



277 



Oct. 12. — This morning shews what the last night's 
work has been : five vessels driven ashore on the Redcar 
Sands, one of them (a large merchantman) a perfect 
wreck; above twenty more ashore in different parts of 
the Tee's mouth : happily but few lives lost, and many 
saved by the Redcar and other life-boats. 



DCLXX. 

The means that we take to deserve the favor of God, are 
the means and the assurance of our obtaining it : we ask 
in sincerity and truth, and we shall have. 



DCLXXI. 

We endeavour to persuade others that we do to them 
what they wish, and ourselves that we do towards them 
what we ought. 



DCLXXII. 

There are many things that we do, that are not so 
useful in their immediate objects as in their indirect ten- 
dencies, such as keeping journals, accounts, &c. 



DCLXX111. 

The man that decides for himself in rejecting what 
almost all others receive, has not shewn himself in one 
instance at least to be a " wise man :" he does not 
" know that he is a fool." 



278 



DCLXXIV. 

How many events we may say we are on the eve of, 
without knowing whether they will happen on the morrow 
or not ! The nearer the catastrophe approaches, the 
more uncertain it appears. We may indeed speak with 
some confidence of the final results ; but when or how 
it will happen, we know not. This obliges us to regulate 
our conduct by the exigencies and the circumstances of 
the present moment, more perhaps with a view to the 
past than to the future. The one has determined what 
is, the effect of the other is reserved for what is to be : as 
we can only reason, so, we can only act " a posteriori ;" 
ad futurumis mere speculation. Such is what is suggested 
by the present state of the contest between the Greeks 
and the Turks ; and by the struggles that are made on 
both sides. 



DCLXXV 

The more a man is acquainted with a subject, the less 
he may be calculated to give information upon it. As it 
is familiar to him, he will speak of it as if it was almost 
as much so to the person he addresses, who perhaps knows 
little or nothing about it. Every man is not the best 
teller of his own tale. Such a one have 1 been just 
listening to. 



DCLXXV1. 

Those who admit the political necessity of religion 
without admitting its truth, can hardly be aware that they 



279 



impute to the Creator the promotion of the happiness and 
well-being of his creatures, by the ineaus of a falsehood. 
Perhaps they will say that the same end is answered by- 
other religions which are evidently false ; (for we cannot 
surely allow the exclusive maxim of the Romish Church;) 
but they do not consider that if the Deity (for 1 am not 
supposing them to be Atheists) permits men to work in 
some instances their own way to Heaven ; it is by systems 
that are far from having that strength both of moral and 
historical evidence which distinguishes Christianity from 
them all. But human pride is not satisfied unless it has a 
code of its own. How far is it competent to this, when it 
shews itself to be so defective a judge of another ? 



DCLXXV1I. 

Horace's " nil admirari" seems to be the description 
of a philosopher, but even the philosopher reserves his 
admiration for the sect and opinion he professes to follow. 
Horace would probably answer this by his 

" Nullius addictus jurare in verba magistri, 

" Quo me cunque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes." 

But this is versatility ; besides, it implies that he would 
be a magister himself, which too, he acknowledges in his 

". — mihi res, non me rebus submittere conor." 



So difficult is it to escape the toils of vanity. 

Horace is more amiable in his confessions of weakness, 
as in his conversation with his servant Davus, and with 
Damasippus, &c. and still more so in his Palinodia— not 
the ironical one of 

" lam jam effieaci do manus scientire," &c. 



280 



but the more sincere one (as we may hope) of 

" Parens Deorum cultor, et infrequens 

" nunc retro rsum 

" Vela dare," &c 

Who that makes a friend of Horace (as every one does 
who reads him with pleasure) is not glad to see his friend 
in such a port as this ? 

When we are touched by the sentiments expressed by 
another, we make him " nostra? partem animre :" does not 
this oblige us quidquam admirari ? 



DCLXXVlll. 

There may be an emptiness in vanity; but the mind of 
man would be still emptier, if it were totally without it. * 
Perhaps Vanity under another shape may deserve a better 
name : when we tread on the extreme of one human feel- 
ing, we may approach the confines of another. Where is 
the pole that is most strongly attractive of them all? In 
religion ; but even there the needle " trembles too." 



DCLXXIX. 

The proper construction, or modification of Horace's 
nil admirari, appears to be what is meant by the common 
phrase of " not setting our hearts" upon any thing, that is, 
so regulating our affections as not to make the enjoyment 

* Especially if '* All is Vanity." 



281 



of any thing a primary object, except of what will give us 
a pleasure on reflection, that is unallayed with any self- 
reproach. 



DCLXXX, 

If we make a tiling of real use to us, we make it our 
own : and to what does not our power of doing that ex- 
tend ? 



DCLXXXI. 

VYhat a host a man must be in himself, to give him a 
right to be singular ! 



DCLXXXI1. 

In the regulation of our dress and manners, we should 
consider whose approbation is worth having, as well as 
whose example is worth following. The general opinion 
will certainly assist us in this. 



DCLXXXI1I. 

A man of principle looks at two sides of a thing, to see 
which is wrong and which is right : a man of the world 
turns it on every side, to see which he can make the 
most of. 

2 O 



282 



DCLXXXIV. 

How few are the spaces of time, however small they are, 
which we should wish to live over again ! Those who have 
that wish, are, generally speaking, more excited to it by 
the sense of not having spent the time well, than of having 
spent it happily. To those who look forward (and all that 
will can) the sense of past or present happiness suggests 
the expectation of higher in future ; the sense of decay, 
that of renovation. 



DCLXXXV. 

How uninteresting would be the follies of any one age, 
if antiquity did not give them consequence in the eyes of 
succeeding ones ! All however, that is connected with 
that wonderful creature man, must, in the eye of the 
Philosopher (who, as man, at once reveres and despises 
himself) have a most attractive interest. 



DCLXXXVI. 

The ignorance of mankind assumes a consequence 
from the number of ideas and words which it has to ex- 
press it. 



DCLXXXVII. 

The filth of the Hottentots, and all the cleanliness of 
civilized nations, prove no more than this, that man is a 



283 



creature of habit : * the source indeed of that habit may be 
a matter of inquiry : perhaps the variety of nature is 
exhibited in this as in other instances: it may be expected 
to be greater where the passions and the varying c( e g rees 
of mental ability take the place of instinct. The economy 
of nature too shews itself in the adaptation of these to the 
several parts they have to act : all together forming one 
great organic instrument, of which " man is the diapason.'' 



DCLXXXVlll. 

How much ideas are obliged to words ! or, how close 
is the connection between them : and what a brilliant 
figure do they make, when tricked out by vanity ! 



DCLXXXIX. 

The greatness of the human mind shews itself in the 
variety of ideas and opinions which it has to choose out of ; 
and its littleness, in the obstinacy with which it adheres to 
those it adopts; adheres, often without the sanction of 
reason. It is obliged sometimes to play this little part, to 
avoid playing a still less. 



DCXC. 

How universal should we esteem the empire of chance, 
if reason did not convince us that there is no such 
thing, 



* And we may add, of imitation^. 



284 



DCXC] 



If we are tempted to say, " such a one is an odd 
fellow," how quickly do we make the return upon our- 
selves, in saying " but we are all odd fellows ?" We all 
have our whims, all our "vitia;" and the "qui minimis 
urgetur" is now as much the sum of human praise (morally 
speaking) as it w T as in Horace's time. The best re- 
medy for these diseases of the mind (to him who is not 
" stultus et improbus" in saying " egomet mi ignosco" is 
suggested by the consciousness of them : this remedy in- 
deed goes still further in its operation, for it applies even 
to our " secret faults ;" but no human dispensary will 
afford it. 



DCXCII. 

Human laws may give us a right to the free disposal 
of the temporal goods we possess, but divine laws require 
that we should render an account of it. 



DCXC1II. 

The best way of arguing with a hasty or positive 
man, is, not in directly opposing his opinion, but in a 
modified statement of the consequences that might arise 
from it. This may lead him into another train of rea- 
soning, and is a sort of compliment to his ability, in 
affording him an opportunity of displaying it. 



"285 



DCXCIV. 

The evidences for the truth of Christianity form the 
strongest trial of both the reason and the feelings of man, 
that can be made. 

Deism must I think be considered as an approach at 
least to Atheism. The Deist may acknowledge a God, 
but it is a God of his own forming, invested with a ma- 
jesty that is above all regard to such wretched creatures 
as we are. It is the God of the Epicurean system. If 
however the Deist acknowledges his existence, he must 
consider him as the Supreme Cause, from which every 
thing else emanates (if not, he must imagine something 
that is above him, as fate, necessity, &c.) and in this 
point of view, the necessity (which he probably will 
acknowledge) of some form of religion, and the evi- 
dent superiority of the Christian to all others, ought to 
be irrefragable proofs with him of the truth of the4atter. 
Indeed, if he attributes to the Supreme Being the qualities 
that are worthy of his nature, he must borrow them from 
the Gospel. Nor will his ignorance afford him any ex- 
cuse for his opinions, for it gives him no right to form 
them : hut it is not so gross as to deprive him either of 
the right or the obligation to judge of the evidences that 
attest the truth of Christianity ; these he can comprehend, 
and by these, when fairly examined, he ought to be 
guided. 



DCXCV. 

There are qualities in human nature, that excite men 
to the commission of faults, and at the same time may 



286 



serve as an excuse for them. How far they are really 
so, can only be known by our Creator; but will not this 
explain much of the character and actions both of nations 
audMndividuals ; and is it not good policy in those who 
have to deal with them, to favor these weaknesses, 
and not to imitate them ? Will any thing be lost by that 
condescension? May there not be a compromise between 
those who wish to retain the possession of power, and those 
who are inclined to resist it ? If public opinion is of any 
consequence, how much ought it to be consulted, before 
the " ultima ratio" is appealed to ? 

In all our dealings with mankind, we ought to be di- 
rected by general principles : if these are sound, they will 
apply to all cases whatever. 



DCXCVI. 

The study of logic or of mathematics, if carried too 
far will make us pedants or dreamers; if totally neglected, 
they will leave us but little use of our reason or even our 
common sense, and will secure neither from perversion. 
The study of a science is of less consequence than the 
view with which is studied. Something more than mere 
memory is required ; a scholar may " cap verses," with- 
out knowing much more of them than the syllables that 
are contained between the initial and final letters ; with- 
out taste and judgment, he will have made but little 
improvement on the acquirements of a parrot. 



DCXCV1L 

The et arbitrium popularis aurV'is the worst standard of 



287 

public opinion that can be resorted to. I do not mean the 
opinion that reasonable people, of every class in society, 
entertain and express; but the noisy and intemperate de- 
clamations, that vent themselves in taverns, spouting clubs, 
often at public meetings, &c. There, the worst passions 
are the instigators and prompters of those declamations ; 
and the character and effect of them are fully displayed by 
the " most sweet voices" that utter them. Of what class in 
society these utterers are, is of little moment ; suffice it, 
that by their conduct they level themselves with the lowest. 



DCXCV1II, 

As extremes meet in one point, that of liking will end in 
disliking, by the self-humiliation it will produce, in leaving 
nothing to compare ourselves advantageously with ; some 
faulty part will then be necessary in the object of our 
greatest attachments. 



DCXCIX. 

When we meet with persons who possess one good qua- 
lity, especially an important one, we are sometimes apt to 
give them credit for others, which they do not possess. 
This is the case between masters and servants, principals 
and agents; and thus we disburthen ourselves of part of 
our responsibility and trouble, by throwing them on others 
who are not capable of fulfilling them. 



DCC. 

In writing our thoughts, objections may, and probably 



283 



mil be made to some of them, for being trite and obvious, 
which they may be to those who reflect, but to those who 
do not, they may never have occurred ; the mode of making 
them too is to be considered, as it may even justify repe- 
tition. 



Extremes often meet : some people are impudent 
.jra want of intellect, others from having too much 
of it; or it may make them dogmatical, which is the 
same thing. The connecting link in both is the want of 



proper feeling. 



DCC1I. 

Those who trust to fortitude alone for their endurance 
of the troubles of life, forget that the best fortitude is in 
patience and resignation; with these they have an armour 
which fortitude alone could not give : without either of 
them indeed it might lead to suicide. 



DCC1II. 

One generation succeeds another, and we witness those 
successions, till we ourselves are swept away, to make 
room for others. What would all this be, i f it was only 
to fill the charnel houses of the dead ? But our reason 
and our feelings tell us another story, still better told in 
the scriptures. 






289 



DCC1V. 

Men are impelled to action either by the desire of adding 
to the satisfaction they feel in what they have already done ; 
or of drowning their self-reproach in some present gratifica- 
tion, or finally, of atoning for their past misconduct by their 
future endeavours. The greatest satisfaction we can enjoy, 
only excites us to seek for more, at least while the same 
faculties (the "mens" if not the " setas") remain to us. 
Turenne's reply to Louis XIV. was dictated by the sense of 
having a higher duty to perform.* His obedience to his 
sovereign, or his sense of honour (which a severe moralist 
might call pride) however prevailed, and he fell a victim 
to it. It was not merely the " contempt of life" that 
he evinced : had he persisted in his refusal, he might not 
have appeared more "godlike" in the eyes of man, but 
how would his account have stood with his heavenly 
;r? 



DCCV. 

Knowledge is of little use, without judgment and 
discretion in the application ot it. It is perhaps rather a 
misfortune to know a thing with certainty, if it inclines 
us to assert it positively too, and without tolerance of 
the opinions of others. If " tot homines tot sententiae" 



* When Louis appointed hira to the command of the war in the Pala- 
tinate, he replied, that there should be an interval between the life of a 
soldier and his death ! 

2 P 



290 

is in any degree true, we shall meet with continual difference 
of opinion ; and consequently, without tolerance, with 
continual occasions of dispute. 

Nothing but the sense of our own defects can make us 
tolerate those of others. Without this mutual forbear- 
ance the world would be a scene of discord. 



DCCVI. 

The desire of revenge is one of the most powerful of 
the passions. What would be the consequence of the 
general indulgence of it ? If the destruction of the human 
race, or at least of the happiness of society, then the pro- 
hibition of revenge is necessary for the preservation of 
one of these, if not of both ; and this prohibition we find 
in Christianity. We may feel indeed this desire, notwith- 
standing the prohibition ; but we also feel that we ought 
to check it : perhaps it will be said that the same end 
is answered by the experience of the ill effects of indulging 
revenge ; but is that sufficient to overcome the spirit 
of it? 



DCCVII. 

'* Nothing is certain but death and judgment," says, 
wisely enough, the gros bon sens of the common proverb ; 
not even what we have experience * to guide us in ; for 

* Experience teaches us what consequences the conduct we have fol- 
lowed has had ; but it cannot teach us what would have been the conse- 
quences of an opposite or different conduct ; though in many cases we may 
presume upon them. 



291 



unless the circumstances are exactly the same (which can 
hardly be supposed) between a past and a present case, 
the results may be different; under this uncertainty, we must 
be left to the decisions of our judgment, which is generally 
directed either by notions of our own or by some autho- 
rities to which we appeal, and which we apply according 
as the bias of our minds, the opinions we have con- 
tracted, our habits, &c. lead us, and in these perhaps no 
two will fully agree; so that if every individual was to 
have the power of determining for others as well as for 
himself, nothing but confusion would ensue; to prevent 
this, recourse is had to " the multitude of counsellors," 
in which " wisdom" is said to reside, aud the majority of 
these must determine. 



DCCV1U. 

The admission of an abstract principle, and its appli- 
cation to practice, are different matters; the " innocence 
of the dove" is alone required in the first ; but the 
" wisdom of the serpent" must be mixed with it in the 
other. 



DCCIX. 

The more I read of the Bible the more difficult I 
find it to reconcile td my reason all that it contains, * but 



* A difficulty only to be overcome by a sense of the limited powers of 
our reason. 



292 

the more impossible I find it t© reject, not only all, but 
any part of it, since the whole is so connected together, 
and has such intrinsic evidence to strengthen it. 

The humility that is required for belief in the Scriptures 
is not an abandonment of reason, but a due estimation of 
its powers : the self-conceit then that refuses this belief, 
is the height of folly ; and well might Young say — 

u Reason pursued is faith, and unpursued 
Where proof invites, 'tis reason then no more. ,, 



DCCX. 



The utmost reach of Philosophy ended in scepticism ; 
for Doubt is the child of Ignorance. This Plato felt, 
when he wished for a teacher from Heaven, from " the 
first good, first perfect, and first fair," which must be 
the source of all intelligence, all animation, and which can 
have nothing beyond it, This teacher, long promised, 
both as Teacher and Redeemer, has been received by 
Christianity, but Philosophy still remains unsatisfied ; 
and why? Because the head will not associate itself with 
the heart ; or rather, because it must be dependent 
on it. 



DCCXI. 

It is not by avoiding to treat of a subject which is 
liable to be misrepresented, that the interests of virtue and 
good feeling are best consulted, but by placing it in 
its proper light.— It is true that in so doing we may expose 



293 



ourselves to the scoffs of those whose feelings are blunted 
or perverted, or whose levity prevents their giviug them 
their proper direction; but it is also true, that it gives 
occasion to those who are better disposed, and who will 
consider the subject more seriously and rationally, to 
vindicate a cause, in which virtue and vice, reason 
and folly may be said to be brought to close combat 
with each other, and upon a ground which both are 
interested in disputing. It is to these better dispositions 
that the appeal is to be made, when an author ventures 
to publish his sentiments, which he will not fear to do 
if he is conscious himself of the rectitude of them. 



DCCX1I. 

In the scriptures there is much to encourage, and 
much to alarm ; and both of these are perfectly accordant 
with the natural feelings of those who have any sensibility, 
and whose sensibility is kept alive by reflection. That 
" the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life," must be 
felt alike by all such, but what is that spirit, unless it is 
felt in its full force? And how is that force to be 
estimated, but by its effects ? 



DCCX1II. 

Is it not fthe characteristic of true courage, to be 
totally separated from, and divested of pride ? Where 
shall we^ find this'courage but in the Christian Martyrs ? 
What excited it ? With what sentiments but those of 



294 



adoration could they regard the person of him whom they 
so imitated, and to whom they made such a sacrifice ; 
and shall we say that they followed a mistaken path, 
they who had the object so near in view, and were 
warmed with so near an approach to that flame, from 
both which we are at the distance of near 1800 years ? 
Is it not much more probable that those are now mistaken 
who wonld lessen the dignity of that object, and throw 
cold water on the flame, on the faith for which the Martyrs 
suffered? Would Erasmus, when he expressed his fears, 
" JNe Petrum imitaturus esset," have sheltered himself 
under such pretexts ? No, no I it is not our reason that 
we have to sacrifice, in giving the highest exaltation 
to the person of our Saviour ; it is the pride and the 
passions that prevent it Will the " Humanum est errare" 
excuse this ? 



DCCXIV. 



Mr. Southey, in one of his juvenile poems, (of which 
I hope and believe he has since been ashamed) says — 

" Go thou and seek the house of prayer; 
I to the woodlands will repair, 
And find Religion there !" 

Lord Bacon more rationally says, — 

" I have sought thee in courts, and fields, and gardens, 
but I have found thee in thy temples." 

That is, not where the imagination and the passions 
are the most strongly excited, but where the feelings 
are the most deeply impressed. 



295 



DCCXV. 

Vanity is so inseparable from our nature, that there 
is perhaps some mixture of it in the purest and best 
founded satisfaction that we can have with ourselves. 
Some men's heads are so full of knowledge, and at the 
same time so inflated with vanity, that it seems difficult 
to account for the emptiness which the latter implies 
in them, except indeed upon the principle of " omnia 
vanitas." They are mere puff-balls, and seem to be 
themselves inebriated with the power of which they are 
full. If there is no organ of vanity in Craniology, it 
must be because the admission of that, in such subjects, 
would leave room for no other. 



dccxv r. 

It is a bad preparation for the ffl Otium cum dignitate" 
to have employed ourselves all the previous part of our 
lives in the negotia cum vanitate. 



DCCXV11, 

If servility is tolerated in clever men, it must be on 
account of the sacrifice they make of their superiority 
to those whom they flatter. But they expect some return 
for this, and the only real one they receive is contempt. 



29(3 



Vanity almost becomes nobility,* when a clever man con- 
descends to borrow his consequence from others who 
are his inferiors in mental endowments. — But respect, as 
well as charity, ought to begin at home. 



Dcexvm. 

If we shew more regard to the frivolous pursuits of 
the world, than they deserve, we shall more or less neglect 
the more serious and rational ones. We may gloss over 
the first, or think to atone for it by the attention we pay 
to the second, but in this we shall deceive ourselves, as 
well as incur the imputation of being insincere toothers, 
and those whom we court will laugh at us ; those 
whom we neglect, (whatever attention we may occasion- 
ally shew them) will distrust, and perhaps despise 
us ; and we shall have to depend upon the candour of 
the world (which is not universal) for any credit given 
us for the good qualities we may really possess ; still 
less may we reckon upon the approbation of our own 
conscience, whose voice we cannot always stifle. 



DCCX1X. 

We cannot detract from what is due to others, without 
equally neglecting what is due to ourselves, nor can 
we pay more to some than is due to them, without paying 
less to others. If we brave the censure of the world, 



# From the sacrifice it makes. 



297 



we shall only add the reproach of haughtiness and insensi- 
bility, to those we have already incurred. 



DCCXX. 

The more of policy (Worldly policy) there is in what 
regards men's conduct, the less is their sincerity to be 
depended upon. If it is a policy of their own making 
it is generally a very poor one. There is but one kind 
of policy (if it may be so called) that insures honesty. 



DCCXXI. 

What excites onr warmest feelings, what animates our 
most ardent desires, what encourages our dearest hopes, 
must necessarily be most interesting to us: what can have 
these effects, but Religion ? Its promises couid not engross 
all the affections of man, if they did not. surpass all his 
conceptions ; his reliance on them has the only sure sup- 
port that can be ghen to it ; fo* it must be founded on 
humility* 



DCCXXII. 

There seems to be one (and perhaps only one) un- 
changeable principle of union amongst all mankind; but 
that principle meets with so many jarring and counter- 
acting ones in this life, that it cannot be expected to have 

2q 



298 



its fall and complete operation and effect till after death, 
in a life, of which it gives the best and most perfect 
assurance. Need I sav that this is — Lovel 



DCCXXI11. 

It may be hoped, that when *' the wheat is separated 
from the chaff, and gathered into the barn," the smallest 
portion of grain that leavens the mass of human depravity 
will not be forgotten. 



DCCXX1V. 

THERE is no outward act of courtesy (or rather ex- 
pression of good-will) that makes a nearer approach to 
sincerity, than the truly English custom of shaking hands. 



DCCXXV. 

The want of thought seems in some people to be their 
best security against the abuse of it. 



DCCXXV1. 

The curiosity of man far exceeds his power of satis- 
fying it ; the necessary result of this is, that no know- 
ledge that he can attain, will be sufficient to set his 
mind at rest. 



299 



DCCXXV1I. 



The esteem which we set upon good works, is more or 
less a compliment that we pay to ourselves for doing 
them ; Faith, on the contrary, is both a security for 
the humility which Christianity enjoins, (as including a 
sense of our dependence) and also an assurance of the 
rewards it promises, on the condition of the good works 
that it enjoins. 



DCCXXYII1. 

There is a greater degree of presumption in the per- 
suasion that we have had a " a call," or that we are any 
way distinguished by the peculiar favour of God, as it is 
incompatible with that state of probation that we have 
every reason to believe ourselves in during this life, Who 
has a right to say with St. Paul, " Henceforth let no 
man trouble me," &c. ? 



DCCXXIX. 

That Man is an image of his God, is a truth of which 
a just observation of human nature must, I think, make 
us sensible ; for we cannot carry our ideas of Divine 
perfection higher, than to suppose it an extension, infinite 
perhaps, of those qualities which human nature is capable 
of, and which we sometimes (and why should I not say 



300 

often?) see it possessed of; and when these are not fully 
displayed, surely there may be a germ, which, however, 
it is obscured or oppressed by baser qualities, is not meant 
to be wholly lost. And how often do the various discor- 
dances among mankind, the various accidents of life, the 
various (may 1 not say weaknesses ?) of our nature, pre- 
vent the full display of the best qualities that individuals 
may possess ! Will these be lost because they are not 
seen by human eyes ? 



DCCXXX. 

When we are tired and dissatisfied with the ordinary 
intercourse of society, and the many " straw-like trifles 
on life's common stream," we may find what is much 
more satisfactory in our own reflections ; and ought it 
not to be so? 



DCCXXX1, 

If we wanted a proof of the difficulty of obtaining a 
knowledge of ourselves, the different degrees of satisfaction 
or dissatisfaction that we feel with ourselves at different 
times, would of itself be a sufficient one. Perhaps the 
dependance of this upon the state of our animal spirits, 
may be one great obstacle to the thorough knowledge of 
ourselves ; it is however none to the observance of the 
precept, " Watch and pray ;" in which is included both 
the fulfilment of our responsibility, and the security for that 
fulfilment. 



301 



DCOXXX1I. 



One great source of our errors is, perhaps, our desire 
of being more satisfied with ourselves than our nature 
qualifies us to be.* 



DCCXXXIII. 

The weaknesses of mankind have so strong a claim 
upon our compassion, that it hardly leaves us a right 
to be angry with them for their faults; still less when we 
consider the share which we have of them ourselves. 



DCCXXXIV. 
If the frequent repetition of our prayers lessens their 
effect upon our minds, it must be owing to our want of 
sensibility; for if the prayers themselves become familiar 
to us, and have no longer the force of novelty, yet new 
occasions for them must continually arise, from the sense 
we must have (if we think and feel at all) and the experience 
of our frailties, wants, (which we are not able to supply 
ourselves) weaknesses, and infirmities, as well as from 
the various troubles to which life is exposed : for these, 
prayer alone, to a feeling mind, will afford any relief. 
Well does Young express this, when he says, 

" From every storm that either frowns or falls, 
What an asylum has the soul in prayer !" 



I mean in our enquiries into what we are enjoined to believe; 



302 



DCCXXXV. 

Whatever disposition the best disposed minds may 
have (and surely they will have it) to believe in the truth 
of the Christian Doctrines, even they perhaps will feel a 
secret wish that a greater degree of comprehension could 
make that belief still more satisfactory to them, to set 
them and the question " at rest." And is uot this part 
of the " warfare" that we have to go through ? 



DCCXXXV1. 

" Dieu a fait V homme leger et vain, 
11 Pour le rendre moins miserable." 
Thoughtlessness and vanity may be means of alleviating 
human misery ; but there may be another, and a better 
way of doing it. Those who have tried both, or who have 
taken the latter, will be able to determine this. 



DCCXXXV11. 

There is perhaps a degree of self-flattery, or at least 
of self-approbation, which is absolutely necessary to 
our mental enjoyment (the peace of our minds) and to 
our perseverance in any course that we have entered upon. 
At the same time it is what we have jnost to. guard against, 



303 

for imperfect at the best as must be our knowledge of 
ourselves, the only security that we can have against the 
impulses of that self-confidence, which is almost sure to 
lead us into error, is, in its opposite, self distrust. How 
strongly does this shew the importance of what has been 
said unto all, Watch ! And he that said it, knew what is 
in ail our hearts. 



DCCXXXV111. 

It is hard to say in what various shapes selfishness may 
be exhibited ; but there is only one kind of it allowed, 
nay enjoined us here, the care of our own salvation. In 
attending to that, all other selfishness must be laid aside. 
This is the "Charity" that " begins at home," and from 
which all other charities must flow. 



DCCXXXIX. 

As we advance in life, we feel a satiety with all the 
enjoyments it affords, and we become less equal to the 
active occupations it requires : but our minds are not 
less capable of enjoyment, and (on the contrary) we wish 
for those of a more solid, and elevated kind. If then 
we have those desires, they surely were given to us 
(for nothing was given in vain) to prepare us for what 
we are to look forward to, as were the desires of our 
early youth. It may perhaps be said, that as the latter 
are generally found to be delusive, the former may be 



304 



so too ; but we are to recollect, that the desires of 
our youth regard only the enjoyments of a transitory 
life, which is itself a preparation for one that is to 
last for ever. We have but then to look forward 
to that immortal existence, to enable us to indulge 
the same ardour of hope (a hope so much better 
founded) that we felt in our early youth : taking the 
proper means to render that better hope more and 
more secure. As we advance in life we wish for repose, 
but we wish for enjoyment too. If (as Jacob said) " the 
evil days are come in which we find no pleasure," it is 
because the objects immediately before us are not capable 
of giving it to us. The very sense of that want of pleasure 
implies this, for a state of apathy would not excite it. 



DCCXL. 

The superiority of man over the brute creation is 
said to consist in the power of drawing consequences ; 
and if we examine the powers of our minds we shall 
find that they increase in proportion to the ability to 
draw consequences, that is, to follow a train of induc- 
tive reasoning, and to express it in words. The latter 
may be considered in some degree as the measure of 
our comprehension ; for what we cannot express, we 
cannot be said fully to understand: and this expression 
must be adequate and appropriate to the subject; in 
Metaphysics (for which it has been said there is no lan- 
guage) this cannot be the case : vain then are the attempts 
to form that decision of opinion upon subjects that 
are highly metaphysical (and what can be more so than 



305 



the mysteries of Religion ?) that requires a sufficient 
comprehension to sanction it.* It is by entering into 
that detailed explanation which implies a persuasion of 
that sanction, that disputes arise among those who discuss 
those subjects : each understands and views it in his 
own way, and will not submit to that acknowledgment 
of ignorance, that would be the best, and perhaps the 
only means of putting an end to all those disputes. Is 
not this applicable, among other things, to disputes upon 
Calvinism ? 



DCCXLI. 

The necessity of good works, and of that faith which 
places our dependence elsewhere than on the merit of 
having performed them, are surely very compatible with 
each other. Still more, that faith presents to us the 
only proper object which can excite us to that perform- 
ance ; if faith was a mere substitute for it, it would be 
barren indeed. 



DCCXLI1. 

If the language of reason is not adhered to, in treating 
of religious matters, it begets a suspicion of enthusiasm : 
but what is the language of reason, when applied to 
devotional feelings ? 

* Is not this tacitly acknowledged by those who pretend io i{ new lights,?" 
2r 



306 



DCCXLI11. 



I hope I am at peace with all mankind : how far I am 
so with God and myself, 1 cannot tell. 



DCCXL1V. 

In Religion, there is enough to encourage a man's 
hope, to excite his endeavours, and to give him all but 
absolute certitude. If he had this, he would no longer 
be in a state of probation. 



DCCXLV. 



The most laudable and most satisfactory improvement 
a man can make, is in religion, morals, and knowledge. 
He attains, perhaps, as much of these as his nature 
will admit of. Is it to be ended and lost in Death? 
Surely not. 



DCCXLVI. 

The fear of punishment after death is necessary to 
restrain the bad ; the hope of reward to encourage the 
good, and to console the unfortunate. And are both 
delusive ? Surely not. 



307 



DCCXLVI1. 

There never was a stronger, nor a truer picture 
drawn, than that in which If oung represents the Almighty 
Being who created man "in his own image," and 
made him " a little lower than the angels,'' as 

" A solitary God, 

O'er ghastly ruin, frowning from his throne," 

on the supposition that the creatures he has so formed, 
and to whom he has given such high hopes of immor- 
tality, are to perish everlastingly at their death ; that 
there is, 

— " a disregard in heaven 

What the worst perpetrate, or best endure." 

That we are " this moment" to 

" gaze on God in man, 

The next, lose man for ever in the dust." 
That there is 

" no rock on which man's tossing thought 

Can rest from terror, dare his fate survey, 
And boldly think it something to be born." 

that in short we are to 

— " admit a God," 

only to suppose him a destroyer, and a 

" Blaster of hopes which he himself has given." 
Well we may end with 

" This cannot be." 

And we are told from still higher authority, than the dic- 
tates of our reason, that this will not be. 



308 



DCCXLV1U. 



The approach to animation which we see in vegetable 
life, prepares us for the reproduction of the same forms 
that succeed to those that have perished ; but the appa- 
rent want of action in the mineral kiugdom, excites -our 
surprise at seeing a regularity of form produced, which 
seems to indicate that the plastick hand of nature 
has there also been exercised ; and exercised, as in 
the rhomboidal form which we so often see given 
to a variety of substances, siliceous, argillaceous, cal- 
careous, &c. where we are least induced to expect 
any thing like organization to take place; but what, 
after all, does this prove, but that the hand of Provi- 
dence works in all, and with a regular design, how- 
ever slow, or however latent the progress of that work 
may be to our perceptions. It may indeed excite our 
curiosity to discover by what natural means these 
regular forms are occasionally produced in substances 
which more commonly are without them. 



DCCXL1X. 

If our minds are not at ease, must it not be, partly 
at least, our own fault? 



DCCL. 

If it is true that every man is ah epitome of all 
mankind, a complete knowledge of ourselves must in- 



309 



elude that of human nature, which indeed can only 
be arrived at by the other ; for it is our own hearts 
alone that we can dive into the recesses of : the greatest 
knowledge however that we can attain, amounts to no 
more than what enjoins a distrust of ourselves : our 
ii secret faults" will still be hid from us. 



DCCLL 

Let a modest man be as content with himself as 
he will or can, there are times when he is tempted to 
envy the easy assurance of others. Perhaps it will 
be said, that this modesty is pride ; and can we prevent 
this mixture of our feelings ? Does it not make part 
of our " secret faults ?" 



DCCL1I. 

There are some regrets that find their alleviation 
in the thought of our sharing them with so many 
others ; among these is our sense of the ill use we 
make of our time ; but we must not trust too much to this. 



DCCLIII. 

The responsibility of nations seems to be separated 
from that of individuals ; the one to be judged of in 
this world, the other in the next. 



310 



DCCL1V. 



Certitude implies present attainment : a state of 
expectation must be a state of suspense, and con- 
sequently of incertitude ; but this expectation must be 
founded on probability. 



DCCLV. 

Ease is the great wish of the human mind; the 
Roman Catholic Church offers it to its votaries, but 
submission to its dictates is the price ; its pretence to 
infallibility will not allow of a higher appeal; unless 
as being the source from whence that infallibility 
proceeds. 



DCCLVI. 

It would be difficult, not to say impossible, for us 
to conceive a higher power in the Divine mind to 
judge of future events than what is possessed by men 
in forming probable conjectures, unless we made that 
superiority of power amount to certain knowledge. 
But if we make tl at previous knowledge the result of 
pre-determination, it would only exist in the Divine 
mind as the necessary concomitant of the exercise of 



311 



power, and, with all the other attributes of the Deity, it 
would be entirely subordinate to that. It would be 
merely to himself, that God would be just, merciful? 
&c. Where then would be the call for human gratitude 
to that Being who is described as " long suffering, 
slow to anger, and of great goodness !" &c . Could 
not God, in the creation of subordinate beings, leave 
room for the exercise of those attributes which entitle 
him to be loved as well as feared ? Must his very 
Omnipotence subject him to a necessity, which is to 
result from the exercise of it? Must he be denied that 
free-will which we are told he has given to us his 
creatures ? And is there one paramount necessity, which, 
like Homer's book of Fate, is to determine the actions 
and decrees both of God and man ? Allowing, at the 
same time, the inconceivable paradox (as above stated) 
of the Omnipotence of God, in union with the necessity 
which results from the very exercise of it. 



DCCLV1I, 

A man who knows not how to be generous, will hardly 
know how to be just; for generosity is only an extension 
of justice : indeed they reciprocally determine each other : 
for he who is more than generous, is not just to himself; 
want of prudence shews itself in him, as an unfeeling 
selfishness does in the other. 



DCCLVI1I. 

Those who think much, find this inconvenience in 
it ; they feel a difficulty in satisfying themselves respecting 



312 



the objects on which their thoughts are employed, 
especially it they are of an abstruse nature ; and if their 
importance is in proportion to their abstruseness, they 
feel at least an equal dissatisfaction with themselves ; 
and all the arguments they may bring in favor of the 
opinions which they hold, or wish to hold, are perhaps 
as much suggested by the desire of confirming themselves 
in them (a desire excited by a feeling of want) as of 
overcoming any opposition they may meet with in 
the opinions of others. The more deeply we reflect on 
many subjects, the more difficult, (to say the least,) 
we find it to be, to form an absolutely decisive opinion 
(in this case indeed, it would no longer be opinion, 
but certitude) upon them. The decision we form is 
only the result of a comparison between two opposite 
opinions, upon a case of which we can only have that 
partial knowledge upon which each opinion is grounded. 
Add to this, that the opposition of the two opinions 
(allowing a degree of plausibility to each) is itself a 
proof of the imperfect knowledge on which each is 
founded. 



DCCLIX 



Objects of sense must depend for the pleasure they 
give to us, on the state of our senses, and on their 
fitness to enjoy it. Age, and the frequent repetition of 
that enjoyment, of course lessen that fitness. The 
satiety produced by the latter, particularly shows itself 
in the desire we have for novelty, which indeed may 
be compared to that state of our bodies, in which the 



313 

appetite requires to be stimulated by new or high- 
seasoned dishes. But in all these, the mind still reserves 
to itself an independence, and a power of action and 
of enjoyment, which only requires higher and more 
solid objects to excite and to satisfy it. Those of 
nature are more peculiarly calculated to have that effect, 
from their immediate connection with the highest of all, 
as well as from their continual variety and their con- 
geniality with our internal feelings. Surely these pro- 
perties and privileges of the mind shew it to be 
distinct from, and superior to, any thing belonging 
to the body ; and the more, as the former often manifest 
themselves, unaffected by the decay of the latter, 
to the very moment in which all our earthly faculties 
and enjoyments are extinguished in Death. 



DCCLX. 

It is the peculiar characteristic of man, to look 
forward in youth (as I have said before) ; he does this 
with all the ardour of hope, to whatever prospects in 
life his views are directed; and he does it the more, 
in proportion to the consciousness he feels of his 
ability to improve and make himself useful to society ; 
and if his head and heart are rightly disposed, he 
will have also the far more important and exalted motive 
of gaining the approbation of his Maker, and thus 
" increasing in favor both with God and man :" what but 
the " sure and certain hope of the resurrection to 
eternal life," can excite and encourage these expectations 
and endeavours ? Given to him they must have been ; 
and for what other purpose can they have beeu given ? 
In this as in many other works of the Creator, 

2 s 



314 



the final end is clear, however obscure the efficient 
means may be : clear, as the fullest display of all the 
attributes of God, and as all the impressions that our 
reason and our feelings are capable of receiving, can 
make it. 



DCCLXI. 

A variety of opinions seems to have been meant to 
be allowed to men ; and to be, in a certain degree, dis- 
connected with their responsibility.* If this is the case, 
can we wonder that these different opinions (and on the 
most important subjects) should admit of that defence 
which precludes both the power of absolute refutation, 
and the right of determining the merit or demerit of 
those who hold them ? 



DCCLXIl. 

Reason cannot be perfectly satisfied with what it 
does not comprehend; but there are matters, in which 
this want of satisfaction may be supplied by the feel- 
ings; so it is in Religion, which addresses itself to 
both. If reason was perfectly satisfied, there would 
be no operation on the feelings, or at least, not of 
that sort and degree, that would not interfere with our 
free-agency, or with that trial of our feelings, which 
depends upon our having the power over them that 
free-agency supposes. Without that free-agency, or at 
least a sufficient degree of it, (for every thing in human 
nature is limited,) there can be no responsibility. 

* Of which, t( he that judge th, is the Lord.", 



315 



DCCLXJII. 



How little difference there is in point of time (none 
in point of necessity) between what does happen, and 
what must happen ! 



DCCLX1V. 



Are not the alloys which natural feeling meets with 
here, an earnest of future feelings, which will be exempt 
from those alloys ? Why else should we be sensible 
of both the feelings and their imperfection ? 



DCCLXV. 

If we are to judge of things by comparison (ana! 
What better mode can we have of judging of them ?) bow 
greatly does it add to the importance, sanctity, and truth of 
the Christian Religion, to consider it at its first pro- 
mulgation, in opposition both to the licentious idolatry 
of the heathens, and the profaned and vitiated reli- 
gion of the Jews ! 



DCCLXV 1/ 

Every object, or groupe of objects, in nature, suggests 
to the painters imagination a new creation for him to 



316 



form, on the representation of what he sees : every 
change of the atmosphere touches a string in his feel- 
ings that responds to the effect produced in nature. 
In partaking of these indeed, every observer and 
lover of nature may have (to a certain degree at least,) 
a painter's eye and mind, though the hand may be 
wanting to execute what the eye sees, and the mind feels, 

" pictoribus atque poetis 

Quidlibet audendi semper fuit aequa potestas." 

says Horace: but there must be also the judicandi, 
the eligendi, the cernendi potestas, to regulate this ; 
without these it will only at best be, " magnis excidere 
ausis." 



DCCLXV11. 

Apparent modesty is often only a court paid to the 
vanity of others ; and the return made to it but little 
more than an acknowledgment of the justice of the 
compliment paid to them. Merit must make its way 
by flattery, unless indeed an example is set by others 
in the encouragement of it, which our vanity is interested 
in following. A man must do more than justice to others, 
to be entitled to do justice to himself. 

This, however, like all others, is but a partial de- 
scription of human nature. 



DCCLXVIII. 

To be sensible of a man's virtues, we must compare 
them with his faults : a purely virtuous character would 






317 

have a sort of spontaneity in it, that would take away 
half its merit, that is, in our eyes. 



DCCLXIX. 

The only way by which we can arrive at any 
conception of the divine perfection, is by a sense of our 
own unworthiness ; we must look through a dark medium 
to enable us to contemplate the brightness of the sun. 



DCCLXX. 

The transition from thought to thought, and from 
folly to folly, are equal proofs of the general connec- 
tion that reigns throughout; and, opposite as these 
directions seem to be, their extremes will meet in one 
point : unjust as was Festus's reproach to St. Paul, 
that " much learning had made him mad," he would 
hardly have said it, if he had not been aware of the 
possibility of such a case occurring. 



DCCLXXI. 

Shall I be accused of a play upon words, when 
I say that from St. Paul's observation, that " we see 
and know in part only," it follows that all our views and 
ideas must be partial ? 



318 



DCCLXX1I, 



If a man thinks at all, his thoughts must be worth 
communicating, either to instruct or to be corrected ; 
" Si quid novisti rectius istis, 1 ' is an appeal that every- 
one must make. 



DCCLXXI1T. 

A man may oftener have it in his power to speak, 
than to act for himself. " Noscitur a sociis," quia 
ducitur a sociis. 



DCCLXXIV. 

In St. Paul's Epistles, plain and evident meanings? 
appear often as it were by starts, amidst a crowd of 
obscure and confused images and phrases. His lan- 
guage is as mysterious as the subject on which it is 
written : and the different parts of his writings on thai 
subject contribute little to the illustration of each 
other : but there is a connection and uniformity through- 
out them, that leaves an awful impression on the mind, 
enforced by the authoritative manner in which they are 
delivered, though they give a very imperfect information 
to the understanding.- -His appeals to the feelings of 
his readers, and to the sacred writings, are very forcible, 
and the more, as they appear to come from the dictates 
of his own heart. 



319 



DCCLXXV. 



Desultoriness may often be the mark of a full 
head; connection must proceed from a thoughtful one. 



DCCLXXVI. 

To know whether a thing is of consequence or not; 
is to know the consequences that will follow it; how 
necessarily does this carry our views forward to the 
period when all consequences will terminate and be 
absorbed in one that is to last for ever ! 



DCCLXXV1I. 

Infinite comprehension can alone embrace (or be 
commensurate with) Infinity; and what conception can 
we form of either ? But what are these terms of com- 
prehension, mensuration, &c. applied to what is capable 
of neither? When we speak of him in whom " we live, 
and move, and have our being," should we not rather 
say in whom all things have their existence ? But the 
other is " magis ad nos," and therefore used. 



DCCLXXV1IL 

The deepest gloom that can be thrown upon the 



i 



320 



prospects of this life, may be a prelude to the brightest 
sunshine in the next. This hope, and this alone, can 
" cheer with smiles the bed of death." 



DCCLXXIX. 

t 

The stimulus which Christianity gives to its followers 

to labour in its defence, is one proof of its excellence 
and truth ; the success of their labours is a confirmation 
of it, and that they have not laboured in vain. - 



DCCLXXX. 

The performance of his duty is the object of God's 
attention in man ; the manner in which he performs it, 
whether agreeably to their notions, habits, &c. is that 
of his fellow creatures. The first will force their 
esteem, but it must be the latter that will gain their 
affections. 



DCCLXXX1. 

In praising or blaming others, we often only make 
our own encomium. 



321 



DCCLXXXII. 



May not we say that our powers of discussion are 
as great as our powers of conclusion are small ? 



DCCLXXXI1I. 

The means of concealing villainy, especially the 
crime of Murder, in all its shapes, are so various, and 
seem to promise such success, that it can only be 
attributed to the Divine justice, that a discovery is 
almost sure sooner or later to overtake them, 



DCCLXXX1V. 

Feeling is necessary to expression, but expression 
does not always go hand in hand with feeling. 



DCCLXXXV- 

Mediocrity will hardly be allowed to whatever is 
susceptible of excellence. " Mediocrity of imitation is 
tolerable iu middling things, but not at all in great." 

Does not this arise from the different degrees of 
importance that we attach to the originals ? 

2T 



322 



DCCLXXXVI. 

A mind that is accustomed to reflect on itself, can- 
not well feel any great degree of exhilaration, without 
feeling at the same time how imperfect that exhilaration 
is, and how far short of what both its desires and its 
capacities require to satisfy it. The prospect however 
of future improvement and a reliance on the Power which 
alone can realise that prospect, will induce and enable 
it to enjoy and be thankful for what it now feels ; 
which indeed * they are necessary to give " heart and 
substance" to. 



DCCLXXXVII. 

If a wicked and immoral man has any feeling of 
remorse for his wickedness (and if he has not, he may 
justly be considered as hardened) he will also feel a 
wish and hope that God will forgive him; and how for- 
give him ? not by suffering him to go on in his wickedness, 
for that is done by many a sinner; but by shewing 
mercy to him at the day of judgment; and is not this 
feeling a proof that that day will come ? Shall we not 
consider the universality of this feeling, and the neces- 
sity of its influence (more or less) on mankind, as a 
proof that it is founded on an expectation that will be 
realized, in the certainty of a future existence ? 

*' Thereafter as a man feareth," &c. 

* i.e. That " prospect and reliance," 



323 



DCCLXXXV111. 

" Spem longam reseca" —transfer potius ; quod aventi 
Praesens vita negat, vita futura dabit. 

" Abridge your hopes," nay, rather raise them high ; 
What this life wants, another will supply. 



DCCLXXXIX. 

We shall be more lenient to the faults of our fellow 
creatures, if we are aware that their exemption from 
them depends often perhaps at least as much upon the 
clearness of their heads, as upon the goodness of their 
hearts. 



DCCXC. 

Was not the first incitement to the study of natural 
philosophy the conviction that every effect must have its 
cause ? Apply this to the principle of the syphon, in 
which, as in other cases, observation must probably have 
preceded enquiry. 



DCCXCT. 

The sources of our sorrows we know by experience : 
the sources of our consolation we can only know by faith 
and by hope. 



324 



DCCXCJ1; 

If every one knew his exact place in society, and 
uniformly kept it, there would be no occasion either 
'or simulation or reserve ; but the misfortune is, that 
we can neither be sure of others, nor of ourselves: 
we are therefore obliged to be on our guard against 
both. 



DCCXCI11. 

Aristotle's unwillingness (which too it appears that 
he could not satisfy himself in) to allow that mankind had 
any beginning, seems to have arisen from the difficulty of 
conceiving a first creation ; but he did not perhaps consider 
that that difficulty is by no means removed, nor even les- 
sened, by supposing that things have been at all times (in 
respect to mere existence) as they now are ; for that exist- 
ence from all eternity, and without a primary cause, is still 
to be accounted for ; and making such a subordinate and 
imperfect a creature as man, the cause of his own existence, 
is very unsatisfactory and unreasonable indeed. Primary 
and universal causation requires all the attributes that 
constitute perfection, (power, wisdom, &c.) to legalise it, 
(if 1 may so say,) and what efficiency can there be in 
those qualities, if they exist only in the abstract ? If 
they are attributes, they must be attributed to some Being 
to give them effect as causes. 

The human mind appears to betray both its own vanity 
and indolence, when it has recourse to assumptions. 



325 



The greatest exercise that seems to be allowed to it, is 
in finding a good reason for believing what it cannot 
comprehend. 



DCCXCIV. 

There are things that we may abstain from consider- 
ing, on account of their being above the reach of our 
reason, but which, when we do consider them, we cannot 
refuse to admit the truth and importance of. Shall we 
say then, that we abstain from considering them, because 
we are unwilling to admit the truth of what we cannot 
comprehend? or shall we not rather say, that we prefer 
a reference to our feelings, for the admission of truths, 
which may be impressed upon them much more easily 
than they can upon our reason. An impression upon it 
must be made through the medium of intelligence. 



DCCXCV. 

How much are we at the mercy of our own impulses I 
and how many (to say the least) are the things that 
we do more from inclination than from choice ! 



DCCXCVI. 

A splenetic observer of mankind might say, that one 
half of them are employed in committing errors, and the 
other half in blaming them ; and perhaps doing the same 



526 



themselves. The world however goes on, and some evils 
correct themselves, or balance each other; and a merciful 
Providence (qui ut omnia videat et multa saltern provideat 
necesse est) frequently interposes to save those from destruc- 
tion who err from want of judgment, more than from inten- 
tion. This interposition may not be visible, but it is surely 
inferrable, from the wisdom and benevolence of Provi- 
dence, and the blindness and weakness of mankind. 



Dccxcvn. 

Humanity and policy may be sometimes at variance, 
for either may be carried too far : one part of mankind 
impels the other by crying Gut " fiat Justitia," without 
perhaps thinking of the " ruat ccelum" or at least of 
the " ruat salus publica" that will or may follow. A 
man cannot feel himself till he exerts himself. The stone 
mist be put in motion, and then 

"Vires acquiret eundo." 



DCCXCVI11. 

General conclusions we are able to form, and jus- 
tified in forming, for they are necessary to the regulation 
of our conduct, and the reasonable satisfaction of our own 
minds; but the particular application of them is often out 
of our power, for we are not authorised to judge of others, 
nor competent to judge ourselves : " I judge not mine 
own self," &c. says St. Paul. 



327 



DCCXC1X. 

If the feelings of mankind are concerned (as they 
surely are) in the investigation of religious truths, those 
feelings deserve the attention of Philosophers, as much 
as the exercise of their reason does. But do they meet 
with that attention ? Perhaps the Philosopher will 
say " they meet with as much as they deserve ; but 
with their variety and mutability, their liability to be 
influenced by a number of moral and physical causes, 
&rc. how can they be admitted as tests of truth \" But 
you allow (at least you cannot deny) that they are 
materially concerned in the examination of religious truths ; 
your reason then for rejecting their evidence 1 thiuk 
amounts to a confession, that Philosophy is itself incom- 
petent to discuss the question. 



DCCC. 

"He will have mercy on whom he will have mercy." 
It is not for man to determine how or where this 
mercy will be shewn; for man cannot attain the know- 
ledge which determines the will of the supreme Being; 
but surely mercy will be shewn, and as surely there 
will be objects to exercise it upon ; for the attribute 
must exist in a Being of absolute power and perfection; 
and of what avail would the possession, without the 
exercise of it be ? And on what objects can it be 
exercised, but On those whose hopes or fears anticipate 
the judgment they will receive ? Those feelings indeed 



328 



may not be a sure criterion of that judgment : for they 
may be modified by self-delusion, or morbid affection ; 
but he who is wholly without them, must either have 
the folly of an ideot, or the insensibility of a brute, or 
the ferocious courage of a hardened sinner. 



DCCCI. 

It seems to be the character and object of Scepticism, 
to leave in doubt its own opinions, as well as those which 
it professes to doubt of. 



DCCC11. 

He who has created can destroy ; he who can destroy 
can renovate; let nothing then be supposed impossible 
to the Being, who is himself the source, and whose fiat 
is the cause of all existence. 



DCCCIU. 

We must know what is " given," before we can know 
what will be et required ;" and as we cannot do the one, so 
neither can we do the other. An far indeed as worldly 
estimation goes, perhaps we may ; but as the purposes of 
that estimation are comparatively trifling and insignificant, 
so must its powers be ; and all the importance they caji 
really have must be in the " issues" of another life ; 
and there our views can penetrate no further than to 
what is necessary to direct our conduct in this. 



329 



DCCCIV. 

This world is left to the *' chances" and Changes 
that time necessarily brings about ; The 

" Tempora mutantur, noset mutamur in iilis" 

must happen to us all; what the succession or occur- 
rence of these may produce, it is impossible to say ; 
we may fear it will not be for the better ; but we may 
also presume, that God will not be • extreme to mark 
what is done amiss" by us his creatures, in conse- 
quence of the temptations, various as they may be, which 
these changes and chances may subject us to, and by 
which what is " given to and required of" each, must in 
some degree be modified. 



DCCCV. 

We are apt to think that questions are made too ge- 
neral, because we wish them to be confined to what 
properly belongs to the subject under consideration ; for 
these are in fact the bounds of our own intellect; we 
can view them only in part,* and we forget that as all is 
connected", so they are connected with all : which is far 
beyond the reach of our comprehension, 



As to their immediate relations. 
2u 



330 



DCCCVI 



In regulating our opinions upon abstruse subjects, we 
should consider the degree of evidence that they are 
capable of, and recollect that the arguments for or 
against them, must bear a certain proportion to each 
other, and we should not judge of them by a compa- 
rison with the evidence which subjects of less obscurity 
will admit of. Slight probabilities, and remote analogies, 
may have as much weight in relation to obscure subjects, 
as stronger and more immediate ones may have upon 
those that are more demonstrable, especially if they con- 
cur with each other, so as to produce a mass ot evidence. 
This rule may be of use in the most important cases. 



DCCCVII. 

What a total sacrifice ot reason there is in the 
" Credo quia impossibile est !" Such a creed must surely 
be considered not as a fair representation of faith, but as 
a Caricature of it, meant to make it ridiculous. A man 
who can sincerely adopt it, must glory in making a fool 
of himself, and must think that the highest respect that 
can be paid to religious faith, is in disgracing it. 



DCCCV1JI. 

Every accession of knowledge is a stimulus to further 
pursuit, because it shews that much yet remains behind : 



331 



imperfect knowledge must be imperfect satisfaction ; a 
sense of ignorance must be a sense of doubt, or at least 
of suspence. We should pray with unsatisfied desires ; 
— those satisfied, we laud only. 



DCCCIX. 

There is an epithet that appears to me to be a better 
description of worth in the youths of all classes in society, 
than the partial application generally made of it, seems 
to imply an admission of; which is, that of being a steady 
young man : and what is it that gives the best title to this 
description ? The proper use of thought. 



DCCGX. 

As long as there are different degrees of understanding 
among men, and as their understandings are influenced by 
their passions, so long it will be impossible to make them 
agree upon any subject that requires a right understanding 
and feeling to judge of it. 



DCCCXI. 

All our efforts to free ourselves from sin, must be 
founded on a sense of our liability to it ; and this must 
exclude, or at least limit self-satisfaction. 



1332 



Dcccxir. 

Want of personal courage is not unfrequently made 
up for by obstinate adherence to opinion, which may arise 
from a jealous apprehension that others will avail them- 
selves of a weakness of which we shew ourselves to be 
conscious; while on the other hand, the consciousness of 
personal courage often seems to beget in us an equal ap- 
prehension that we shall avail ourselves too much of it, in 
opposing our opinions to those of others. Thus, whether 
this confidence and diffidence are misplaced or not, the 
two opposite characters are brought nearer to a level with 
each other, and various purposes of human life are an- 
swered, among which the trial of our patience is not the 
least important. 



DCCCXI1I. 

When we consider the proofs of the immortality of the 
soul, we are convinced of the truth of it; but when 
this attention is suspended, or directed immediately 
to the object itself, the impossibility of our conceiving 
it, throws us back into a sort of doubt, which can only 
be dispelled by the renewal of our first attention and our 
efforts. 



DCCCXIV. 

If God is infinite (as he surely is) his action must be 
infinite too ; and he must have infinite space, (if we may use 
a term which we can so little define) to act in. 



333 



DCCCXV. 

What idea can we form of a Being, who is infinite, 
and at the same time is no where greater than in the 
smallest of his works? How can we consider infinity, 
but as being as much displayed in diminution as in exten- 
sion? Or rather as being equally capable of both, or of 
neither;* for how can the greatest or the smallest objects 
be compared with infinity? But what do we mean by 
the greatest or the smallest ? Is it not the greatest or the 
smallest that we can conceive ? But on what do our 
conceptions depend ? Is it not upon the evidence of our 
senses ? and what is the extent of the information they 
give us ? 



DCCCXVI. 

Perfect satisfaction (which is the natural wish of 
the human mind) cannot be attained by any knowledge 
that it can acquire, it must then " wait the great 
teacher Death — and God adore/' but at the same 
time not consider itself as wholly uninstructed, nor 
as irresponsible for the use of the instruction it has 
received. 



DCCCXV1I. 

The greatest happiness that we can have in any 
enjoyment that the mind is susceptible of, is in referring 

* Infinity neither admits of extension of dirauuition ; both are com- 
parative, and infinity admits of no comparison. 



334 



to the source from whence it conies ; the bounty of 
Providence which gives it, and enables us to receive 
it. The pleasure of this reference is the greater from 
the expectation and hope it encourages. 



DCCCXV1II. 

1 am inclined to think, that there ate two kind 
( may 1 say only ? ) of people who do not relish 
" Young's Night Thoughts, w those who do not want 
them, and those who cannot feel them. 



DCCCX1X. 

1 have said that Young's Poem is a noble paraphrase of 
the Scriptures, which I think is true, as to the substantial 
parts of the Poem, its arguments in favour of the immorta- 
lity of the soul, and the importance of the means of ensur- 
ing its future happiness : The flights, and sometimes the 
obscurities that Young's imagination carries him into, 
must not be considered as entitled to the same praise, 
liowever they may shew the force of his genius. But 
there are few perhaps that a little attention may not 
make intelligible, and even his redundancies have their 
force. As to the gloom of the poem (Young himself 
calls it a " Gloomy Song,") surely that is a frivolous 
as well as unfounded objection : its force and animation 
throws sufficient lustre on its gloom, and its represen- 
tations of the vanities of this life are only seriou s 
truths. Poor indeed are the objections of some French 



335 



Critics, such as Baron Grimm, &c. — But that nation 
in general does him justice, as well as the feeling 
readers of ours. 



DCCCXX. 

One great obstacle to the reconcilement of quarrels 
in society, is perhaps the difficulty of making them 
up on equal terms between the parties : but should 
not the "exchange of forgiveness" (tor when is it not 
wanted ?) remove this difficulty ? 

It seems the more proper that disputes between 
Nations should be decided by force of arms, as 
justice is often out of the question on both sides. 



DCCCXXI. 

To encourage the good, to fix the doubtful, and to 
check the bad, are the great ends of our leading an 
exemplary and useful life. 



DCCCXXIL* 

The difference between the Greek epitaph and that 
by Lord Palmerston (Neale's Views of Seats, Vol. 2 
Broadlands, Hampshire) is, that the Pagan could only 
bid the earth lie light upon the buried object of his 
affections and regrets : the Christian resigns her to 
his God : to him who was his Creator, and who 



33(i 



has bid him place his dependance, and repose his hope, 
where his feelings and his sufferings are known and 
compassionated, and where they will receive their 
compensation. 



1 
DCCCXXI1I. 

A CHAIN of inductive reasoning is as convincing 
as any reasoning can be ; because a connected series 
of consequences that necessarily flow from each other, 
must tend to support and strengthen each other, more 
than any single proposition can do by itself, unless 
it is self-evident : but to feel this strength, it is neces- 
sary that the mind should take in the whole chain 
of reasoning, which it is not always equally prepared 
to do, and iustead of that, it is apt to consider the 
different parts of the chain separately, and so to 
puzzle itself by considering propositions that may in 
themselves be more or less disputable. 



DCCCXXtV. 

The stronger a man's mind is, the more likely he 
is to be governed by his own* prejudices. Strength 
of mind, as the term is commonly used, does not 
always mean or imply strength of judgment. Ts this 
because we are apt to make the term synonymous 
with obstinacy ? 



337 



DCCCXXV. 

Our short existence here can be no other than a 
preparation for an eternal existence hereafter; every- 
thing must have its final cause ; and what final cause 
can there be, adequate to the effect produced, for our 
existence in this world, if it is to terminate in anni- 
hilation? But how are our imperfections and un wor- 
thiness to prepare us for that future existence? How, 
but by the deficiency being filled up by the mercies 
of God upon the conditions declared in the Scriptures? 



DCCCXXVI. 

Life is full of solicitudes ; and the greatest of them all 
is respecting what is to come after it. Is this given only 
to produce present suffering? Surely not. 



DCCCXXVTI. 

If man may be allowed to indulge any pride, it must 
be in his capacity to know and feel that he is but a worm ; 
for how can he know that, but by a comparison of his own 
abject state with the Power that made him what he is? 



DCCCXXV11I. 

Belief of what we cannot comprehend must perhaps 
necessarily be imperfect, and in spite of our wishes, in 
spite even of that evidence that should determine opi- 

2x 



338 

nion, we may still have our moments of wavering and of 
doubt ; this to a feeling mind is its own punishment, and 
must subsist till we can "know as we are known:" it is 
part of the battle we have to fight, and if we so consider it, 
we shall hardly hesitate on which side to array ourselves : 
shall we fly from it to dissipation ? If we succeed in this, 
we shall gain little by the change from painful thoughts to 
heedless insensibility : let us then rather seek for the re- 
medy in the disease itself (if it is one) with the recourse to 
that reason which, as our best faculty, was surely given us 
*or the best purposes ; it will afford us consolation and en- 
couragement,* however it may be embarrassed by that maze 
of perplexities which it is unequal to the thorough deve- 
lopement of. 



DCCCXXIX. 

It is the more difficult to regulate our opinion of things 
of an abstruse nature, as the powers that are given to the 
human mind, create in it a desire of having a degree of in- 
formation sufficient to satisfy the curiosity excited by the 
sense of those powers,f and we are apt to suspect that those 
who entertain a decided opinion upon these matters, whe- 
ther favorable or not, have not made all the use of their 
mental powers which the subject required. Thus we re- 
main in a state of doubt, waiting for further satisfaction, 
which we might perhaps obtain by our own efforts. 



• With the assistance which hai been giren to it. 
t But grearter thaa we find them able to attain. 



339 



DCCCXXX. 

The happiness of this world deserves little more thati 
the name of amusement : the greatest happiness that the 
mind is capable of, is when the enjoyment of our existence 
is mixed with the thoughts of that which is to come. It 
is only of this, that an intimate feeling can be had.* 



DCCCXXXI. 

The excellence of government seems to consist in over- 
coming difficulties (or what the world esteems as such) 
by a skill and judgment superior to them. Shall we say 
this of God's government of the world ? But what can be 
difficult to the first and supreme Cause of all things ? 



Dcccxxxir. 

Space is infinite ; God is infinite ; infinite power must 
have a commensurate field (if any mensuration may be 
here allowed) to act in, and the effect of that action must 
be proportionate. Why then should we be staggered with 
the prodigious number of intelligent beings that are born and 
die daily, to pass to another life, in the universe (probably) 
of which our earth makes so small apart? But (the scep- 
tic will say) does not this suppose a constant and growing 

* A feeling far deeper than any other object can eicite, 



340 



addition to the number of those beings ? Shall we attempt 
to remove this (apparent at least) difficulty by supposing, 
with Pythagoras, the transmigration of souls from one 
state to another? All will then revolve in a circle, but 
does not this limit the action of infinite power, in ex- 
cluding new creations ? On the other hand, itcannotout- 
giow itself, but does it not itself increase (being, too, 
before infinite) by this increase of action? Alas, ami 
to consider the perplexity which this leaves the mind un- 
der, as a punishment for its allowing itself to ramble where 
it "finds no end, in wandering mazes lost?" But if, as 
Pope says, we are to "wait the great teacher Death, " we 
must be sensible, in some degree at least, of what we are 
to wait for. The patience and resignation required for 
this, is one great trial that we have to undergo, which 
must be done in bearing and repressing the disquietudes 
into which the mind is apt to fall. To counteract these, 
opposite feelings are given to, and encouragedin us.* 



DCCCXXX1II. 

The longer we live, the more we feel the value of 
what is implied in the word comfortable, probably from 
our alternate want and enjoyment of it. It is a sort of 
substitute for ease, of which it has been said, that it is a 
big word, though spelt only with four letters. These 
are homely phrases, but are they the less expressive of our 
natural feelings ? They may be considered as themes for 
philosophy to descant upon. But what can be said of them 
with greater truth than that they are aspirations after a 



* By the resources to which we may apply. 



341 

" peace which the world cannot give," and that we can only 
find some consolations to supply the place of. The very 
desire however of obtaining happiness, gives encourage- 
ment to the hope of it, if not here, at least hereafter. 



DCCCXXXIV. 

How pleasing is the view of domestic felicity, whether 
it is exemplified in the mild but intelligent simplicity, 
the blunter honesty, the calm resignation, or the more 
animated vivacity, tempered with all the charities and 
religious feelings, of him or her who holds 

" the mild majesty of private life, , 



Where peace with ever blooming olive crowns 
The gate," &c. 

Such scenes carry the view forward to that " mercy" 
which is promised to the " thousands who love God, and 
keep his commandments :" and to that consummation of it, 
which will be in heaven. 



DCCCXXXV, 

In reasoning upon abstruse subjects, our . opinion 
must be determined more by a comparison of the weight 
of the arguments on one side or the other, than by 
considering those on one side as answers to those on 
the other ; because they cannot* be applied with suffi- 

* At least not always. 



342 

cient closeness to become so : and it results from thence, 
that absolute conviction, by either proof or refutation, 
cannot take place on either side. More perhaps may 
be said in favour of one opinion than the other; but 
still that more cannot be considered as an answer to 
the less ; they are, to a certain degree at least, inde- 
pendent of, and unconnected with each other. Hudibras 
says, " A man convinced against his will, is of the 
same opinion still." This certainly is a witty and 
shrewd description of obstinacy, and as the French 
aptly call it, opiniatrete : but after all, is he really 
convinced ? or of what can we expect him to be 
convinced ? of the error of his own opinion, or of its 
inferiority to ours? and on what will this conviction 
depend ? Instead of a " man convinced," &c. should it 
not be, a man who ought to be convinced ? 



DCCCXXXVl. 

What we are not competent to judge of, we can but 
imperfectly assent to ; in respect therefore, of the 
mysteries of Religion, the utmost that a thinking man 
can say, is, " Lord, 1 believe, help thou mine unbelief!" 
Less than this however he will not say, if he makes 
the proper use of his intellectual powers, and has a proper 
sense of their very limited extent. 

The man who refuses his assent to the mysterious 
doctrines of the Scriptures, takes a far greater weight of 
responsibility upon himself than he would give up of his 
right to judge for himself, if he believed them ; and of 
what is he entitled to judge, but of the evidence by which 
they are attested ? 



343 



DCCCXXXVI1. 

Perhaps one objection to the apparently exclusive 
doctrine of Faith, as it is insisted upon by the Methodists, 
arises from the separation that we consider as being 
made by it, of faith and good works ; but if the latter 
is regarded as tho necessary result of the former (for 
the same dispositions under the proper regulation of 
reason, will lead to both) will not that objection be 
done away ? Perhaps an objection will still remain from 
the possibility that the nature of faith may be misunder- 
stood, but may not this be obviated by a reference to 
the moral precepts of Scripture, clearly as they are 
enjoined, and indispensable as the observance of them 
is made by our Saviour? What doctrine or precept, 
either abstruse or not, may not be misunderstood or 
perverted, by a partial interpretation, and without the 
proper application of it ? The plain parts of Scripture 
are those which immediately regard our moral duties; 
but our attention to these is to be founded in faith. 
There is indeed a disposition in the mind that induces it 
to limit its reception to the truths of natural religion, that 
is, of Deism ; besides the power which it possesses, of 
inductive reasoning, which may strengthen that belief: 
but if the belief of Christianity, and of its most abstruse 
doctrines, may also be acquired by a process which rea- 
son will approve of, may it not be considered as equally 
indispensable to those who are situated and qualified to go 
through that process ? Those who are not, may well be 
satisfied with the appeal it makes to their moral sense, 
and their affections; these surely must dispose us to a 



344 



belief in, or at least a reverence for Christianity ; the 
modes of that reception may differ, but any excuse that 
may be made for that, does not remove the obligation to 
examine, and to receive it, quantum et quomodo in nobis 
est. Motives to the fulfilment of moral obligations, must 
certainly be founded on some higher principle than any 
that this world can afford; Religion is the highest of all, 
and the reception of it must include that of all the truths 
which it contains. The progress 01 the affections cer- 
tainly leads us to a belief in Christianity : for there is 
nothing that can interest them so strongly as that does ; 
it is there that the hand of misfortune throws us, as the 
only reliance that can support us under its pressure ; no 
system of Religion or of Philosophy can do it equally 
with that: those who have not known it, cannot make 
the comparison : and shall we say that this arises merely 
from the constitution of human nature ? From whence 
comes that constitution ? From him who has allotted 
those different means of satisfaction and support to the 
different situations in life in which his creatures are 
placed. 



Dcccxxxvm. 

We are, generally speaking, satisfied with the passing 
enjoyments of life, without taking all the means that the 
right use of our reason would suggest, to increase and 
make the most of them: this indeed is not to be done 
by following the mere impulse of the moment ; nor yet 
those courses into which our habits sometimes lead us. 



345 



DCCCXXX1X. 



There are many employments that require only a 

certain degree of intellect, and that seem to keep the 

mind down to their own level : some minds however 
rise above it. 



DCCCXL. 

In which does the mind feel the greatest elevation ; in 
viewing the highest mountains that the earth contains, or 
the interminable horizon that the level plain of the seja 
presents to us ? Equal in both ; for when we look towards 
Heaven, He is present there ; when to the, extremest 
bounds of the earth, He is there also: 



DCCCXLI. 

When we attempt to supply the defects of our reason 
by an immediate reference to the Power that is above it» 
we must be puzzled by our incapacity to discover in what 
mode the assistance and communication can be conveyed 
to us ; and by our constant inability to ascertain the fact 
itself; the want of these (if we persist in making that refer- 
ence) we supply by enthusiam or fanaticism. 

The only conclusion that our reason will justify our 
forming, is the general one, that " every good gift Co- 
meth from above." But this faith, like all others, must 
have "a reason given for it:" which it certainly admits of, 

and has had. 

* Y 



340 



DCCCXLXl, 

The consciousness of our own unworfchiness, and the 
hopes of pardon and acceptance, are, the one so deeply 
rooted, the other so elevated, that they require an ade- 
quate pledge to assure us of their being reconciled to, and 
made compatible with each other; no idea that we can 
form of God and his attributes can give us this assurance ; 
if we consider his power and majesty, we cannot conceive 
how he can condescend to notice such miserable creatures 
as we are ; (such was the idea of Frederick of Prussia ;) if 
we consider his purity, we cannot conceive how he can 
tolerate or pardon human depravities. No abstract idea 
that we can form of him, in short, can encourage us to 
hope or to expect any thing from him, much less when we 
consider ourselves : it is only his word and his promises, 
and our trust in them, that can give us that assurance, 
and inspire us with those hopes of happiness in another 
world, which are so necessary to encourage us in our pas- 
sage through this. We are indeed too much agitated and 
distracted by contending principles and feelings here, to 
entertain one steady and unvarying hope of happiness 
hereafter ; it is only prayer and religious meditation that 
can bring the feelings to one fixed point, and disperse 
all the worldly and tumultuous thoughts that make the 
" needle tremble" on each side of the pole, to which it 
ought to, and would fain fix itself. 



DCCCXL111. 

One great object of our endeavours should be, to know 
the limits of our mental powers, to know why they are so 



i 



347 

limited, and why certain things are hidden from us : this 
we may do, and this knowledge is perhaps the highest, 
and certainly is the most useful and satisfactory that we 
can attain. It will teach us the value of those communi- 
cations, which supply any defect they may have in in- 
forming our reason, by the impression they are calculated 
and ought to make, upon our feelings. 



DCCCXL1V. 

May we not say, that the hope of mercy justifies the ex- 
pectation of it? For hope implies desire, which is a step 
towards attainment, as, " the fear of God is the beginning 
of wisdom," &c. 



DCCCXLV. 

The varying state of our spirits may (as I have said be- 
fore) be an obstruction to the knowledge of ourselves, 
from the too great satisfaction or dissatisfaction that their 
elevation or depression may produce; this may (to a cer- 
tain degree at least) make us physically incapable of self- 
knowledge ; the indulgence of ill habits, and the want of 
thought, will make us morally so ; Is then all exhortation 
to self-knowledge useless ? Not so : it is, like all moral 
or religious exhortation, an incitement and encouragement 
to those who are inclined to self-examination; it is a sort 
of " ductor dubitantium ;" and it makes us "watch" as 
well as '• pray." 



348 



DCCCXLVI. 

In our intercourse with our fellow-creatures, we may 
seek for approbation, but we must often (generally perhaps) 
be content with mere sufferance; still, however, "the 
spirit of a man sustaineth his infirmity ;" that is, when the 
spirit is itself sustained, and not " wounded" by consci- 
ousness. 



DCCCXLVI1. 

Man's life is, generally speaking, rather a flight from 
unhappiness, than a pursuit of happiness : for, in one 
shape or other, " premit atra comes sequiturque fugacem." 
But in this, is not equal justice done to all mankind ? 
And are not the compensations alike equally given ? 
There is a " murus aheneus" to which all may resort. 



DCCCXLVIII. 



Sententious compositions exhibit little more tha 
the power of expressing in words (the embodiment of 
thought) what all are capable of feeling: at least, who 
have any thought or feeling at all, and these have an ex- 
tent, which all expression must fall short of. 



DCCCXL1X. 



Seneca's " stet quicunque volet potens, &c." gives, I 
think, but a fallacious statement of the effects which the 



349 

opposite courses of life that he describes, are likely to 
produce: for the stare potens " aulae culmine lubrico," 
is not more likely to make a man " notus nimis omnibas, ,, 
than the " obscurus moriar senex," is unlikely to make him 
"notus sibi:" which he cannot well be, without that 
trial, which an intercouse (reasonably limited) with his 
fellow-creatures is necessary to produce. 



DCCCL: 

A man who has contracted a habit (to him become a 
second nature) of living constantly in the world, is not sa- 
tisfied with having it before him, but he must be in the very 
throng of it, where, " Oblitus sui," he is only occupied 
with those about him, whom he cannot, even in his mo- 
ments of retirement, lose sight of, to turn his eyes inwards 
upon himself; nay, he is even liable to lose the power of 
observing others, either by their faults (often their most 
conspicuous part) being too much magnified by nearness 
of vision, or else by the confusion which their mixture 
will create in his mind, though this may partly depend on 
the constitution of it, and perhaps on the atmosphere 
which he sees through. He loses even himself in the con- 
templation of others, and his air, manner, and speech 
will be affected by his intercourse with them, for he can- 
not but " smell" of the great " shop" in which he lives, 
with some little variation perhaps in the odour of its con- 
tents." " Ne quid nimis" is not his motto, and in the ex- 
clusiveness of his pursuits (if indeed he can have any in 
the great turmoil which envelopes him) he becomes inca- 
pable of attending to any objects but those which his eyes, 
ears, and all his senses are buried in. 



350 



DCCCLI. 

Nature, in the vastness of her field, is continually 
varied to our eyes ; men, imitative creatures as they are, 
are comparatively uniform, at least in their outward ap- 
pearance; for the shilling must become smooth by constant 
friction. 



DCCCL11. 

There is a part of the world of which it is hard to say 
whether they are more satisfied with having something to 
praise, or something to blame; and indeed take the 
world throughout, it will not be easy to determine on 
which side the preponderance lies. Perhaps it may be 
resolved into Horace's 

; "Quo nos cunque rapittempestas." 

or it may be 

" Arbitrio popularis aurae." 

for there is a fashion in opinion, as in dress; and in one 
sense 

" All the world's a turncoat" 

Happily however most men are too much occupied with 
their own concerns to attend much to those of others, unless 
when they are in concurrence or competition with them; 
and it is still happier, that there is one day in the week, 
when their attention is directed to better objects, Sunday 
then is, at any rate, something more ihan a mere rest from 
labour. 



351 



DCCCLIIL 

What does the prospect of society exhibit to a mind 
disposed to indulge in gloomy forebodings?* Gradual de- 
terioration, till it ends in the extreme of depravity. 

w iEtas parentum, pejor avis, tulit 
Nos nequiores, mox daturos 
Progeniem vitiosiorem." 



DCCCLIV. 

The increased intercourse of society, and the ever- 
changing events which that, and more important and ex- 
tended causes have given, and may give rise to, seem, in 
part at least, to have produced the novels which the 
press has lately teemed with. They have become the 
vehicles of information and instruction, as well as of 
amusement. But does not this tend to throw a fabulous 
air over every thing, even the most serious? Does it not 
at least threaten to change history into romance ? Per- 
haps not ; for the passing events of our own times, will 
always havs a superior interest to call our attention to, 
and will induce us to compare them with those that are 
past, and to look forward from them to those that are to 
come ; neither of which can be done without an adherence 
to truth. 



* So we see that even Horace had his. I think the ancients must 
have had some terra that corresponded to our " blue devils*" 



352 



DCCCLV* 

TrtERE is such a mixture of virtue and vice, innocence 
and crime, wisdom and folly, in this world, that any 
representation of its passing scenes must be mixed as they 
are in real life : it is only in the next world that they 
can be separated and weighed, and the final judgment 
given. 



DCCCLVI. 

Young, in one of his letters to Richardson, calls death a 
passage to the " country of imagination." This at first star- 
tles ; but it by no means represents that country as merely 
imaginary ; it is not the less real, for being known to us 
through our imaginations, which tho very denunciations 
of it, high as is the authority from which they proceed, 
can only refer us to for the conception (which indeed, 
they say we cannot form) and perhaps even the belief of 
it: (at least they can only appeal to our "hopes and 
fears.") This surely gives a higher importance to what 
we call imagination, and enforces our attention, with the 
aid of our reason, to the indulgence and the regulation 
of it. When it is said that neither hath " the eye seen, 
nor the ear heard, nor can the heart conceive," &c. the 
imagination is still left to expatiate in a field, the view of 
which is so awfully, and at the same time so invitingly 
opened to it. 



353 



DCCULVII. 

Does not the fear of misrepresentation sometimes 
deter us from fair and just representation ? At this rate 
we make a compromise between truth and falsehood, 
wisdom and folly, and do we not lose sight of the maxim 
" Veritas magna est, et praevalebit V* 



DCCCLVTII. 

What extent is to be given to the maxim, " Honesty 
is the best policy ?" or what are to be its limits ? * 



DCCCLIX 

If an unlimited extent is to be given to the " Humanum 
est errare," it should seem that a combat of opinions is 
only a combat of errors ; but surely some truths are 
within our reach, those at least, which it imports us most 
to know : and how is that knowledge to be obtained but 
by discussion ? They have been discussed, and the truth 
ascertained. Then let us arm ourselves for the field with 
the armour which has already been prepared for us. 

We must not shelter our errors under a false pretext of 
our weakness, any more thau entertain a vain conceit of 
our strength. I am (I think) aware that what Tarn writing 
is capable of being perverted, but is it not also capable of 
being " righted/' (to use a naval term) and its truth 
(if it is so founded) vindicated ? 

" Si quid novisti rectius istis," &c. 

* None bat those that bound practicability, 
2Z 



354 



DCCCLX. 



NlNON de l'Enclos professed an aversion to quotations ; 
perhaps it was because she did not like to have things 
placed in a different point of view from what she chose 
to view them in. She might indeed have quoted opinions 
opposite to her own. But could she do that consistently 
with her own conscience, even of her observances, or with 
those of the age in which she lived ? She might probably 
wish to throw a veil over both.* 



DCCCLX1. 

The " Humanum est errare" must not be our guide, a9 
well as its own excuse. 



DCCCLXI1. 

In all countries perhaps, more virtue, and consequently 
more real happiness, will be found in some classes of society 

* Some one said before Ninon, " Monsieur N. a de 1'Esprit, mais il 
n'a pas lu beaucoup." — " Tant mieux Cdisoit elle) il ne citera pas done." 
Perhaps the simple cause of her hating quotations was, that she had a 
strong head, and but little erudition. My reader will know the compliment 
paid her by St. Evremont. 

L'indulgente et sage Nature 

A fait l'ame de Ninon, 

De la volupte d' Epicure, 

Et de la vertu de Caton. 
A pretty union, of Epicureism and Stoicism ; still more of Sensuality 
and Virtue j extremes indeed will meet sometimes ; but from whence do 
they set out 1 



355 

than in others, and the superiority in this respect, has 
been generally attributed to the middle class : but the 
means of deserving and acquiring happiness must be 
common to all the different classes, and, in part at least, 
possessed and exercised by them all ; were it not so, 
the infectious want of it in any one class would soon 
communicate itself to the rest, and the whole mass would 
become corrupted. 



DCCCLXI1I. 

It is in the faculty of reasoning more extensively and 
comprehensively, of combining, and comparing, of draw- 
ing consequences, of discerning connections and analogies 
that are more or less distant or immediate, that man is 
superior to the brute creation, which indeed appear to be 
capable of forming simple propositions, of which perhaps we 
can say no more, than that their capacities are proportioned 
to their wants, and in a manner that we cannot judge 
of by any comparison with our own. From the con- 
templation of ours, indeed we can look up higher, and 
form some conception, at least, of superior intelligence. 
Surely these faculties admit ef increase and develope- 
ment. 



DCCCLX1V. 

The mysterious parts of the Bible may leave the mind 
in a state of suspence, expressed by " Lord I believe, 
help thou mine unbelief;" but surely, the intelligible 
parts, connected as they are with the rest, and ad- 



356 



dressed both to our reason and our feelings, must leave 
us without a right, and a well-disposed mind without 
the power of unbelief. 



DCCCLXV. 

" Despairing beside a clear stream 
A Shepherd forsaken was laid, 
And whilst a false nymph was his theme, 
A willow supported his head." 

When all at once, roused by a sudden impulse, he 
started up, seized a stone, (no matter whether big or 
little) that lay near him, and looking up to the skies, 
cried with a doleful voice, 

" Flectere si nequeo superos" — 

Then casting his eyes downwards on the stream, that 
sluggishly flowed between its dark and hollow banks 
(as Virgil no doubt supposed the infernal river to do) he 
added in a firmer tone " acheronta movebo," and raising 
his arm, plunged the stone into its bosom. He moved 
it, indeed, but 'twas only for a moment — the stone 
sank to the bottom, the waters closed over it, and 
mocking his hopes, continued to flow on in the same 
sullen silence as before. Alas, poor shepherd ! 



DCCCLXVI. 

The passions have one advantage (if it is one) over 
: ason : they go strait forward to their object, while 



357 



reason is continually erring in the pursuit of her's : 
this is at once an exception to, and an illustration of, 
the ** humanum est en-are," Is it because the " objects" 
of the one are " nigh," and those of the other " at dis- 
tance and in prospect?" Ah weak and short-sighted 
Reason, how dost thou halt behind the " strength" of 
the passions ! 



DCCCLXVI1. 

How often do we hide our selfish vanity under the 
cloak of social or of public sympathy, or public 
spirit, betraying it, at the same time, by a neglect of 
those duties which our nearer connection with others 
imposes upon us. 



DCCCLXVIII. 

Those who cannot love others can have no idea of 
being loved by them ; for love, to be enjoyed, must be 
reciprocal. Mere self-love can give no real happiness 
unless it is mixed with social. Vanity cannot feed on 
itself, without preying on itself. If we do not love 
others, we shall suspect them of hating us (which* indeed 
is sometimes concealed under the pretence of indifference) 
unless we adopt the mortifying alternative of being the 
objects of their pity or contempt, which the secret sense 
of our deserving it will disable us from returning. Xo 

* Which suspicion, 



358 

resource then remains to set our mind* at ease but 
divesting ourselves of all feeling, which is impossible. 
The very attempt to do it indicates it : we do but shake 
our chains, without throwing them off. 



DCCCLXIX. 

We cannot be too open to others, if we are sure of 
their sympathy : if our case deserves it, their withhold- 
ing it will but revert upon them. Openness itself indeed 
establishes some claim to sympathy, though we cannot 
always depend upon its being acknowledged by others ; 
but, generally speaking, if we tell the truth to ourselves, 
we need not be afraid of telling it to them ; and if 
they do not know it, they will suspect it, and 'tis ten 
to one that our consciousness will betray us. " Noscitur 
a sociis" may be understood in two senses ; and if we 
withdraw ourselves from the society of the world, we 
cannot entirely escape its observation. 



JDCCCLXX. 

A good part of the merit of a writer of such a de- 
sultory work as this, is in interpreting (or anticipating) 
the feelings of his readers ; and where can be the 
merit of a book, if it neither exhibits nor elicits thought ? 
J Tis true, we may laugh without it.* 

* Parce, Lector benevole. 



350 



DCCCLXXI. 

A critical friend of mine called the printing words 
in Italics, a bad compliment paid both to the readers 
and the Author's self ; but we should lay a stress upon 
those words in speaking", why not then in publishing 
them ?— Leave it for our readers to do — so they may 
— but the initiative does not come from them.* 



DCCCLXXIL 

The inconsistencies of others, if they are not carried 
to a mischievous extent, make more than half the amuse- 
ment of Society. The contributions to them are general, 
for who is not a subscriber ? Accept of my mite 5 reader. 
— Your mite ? No, no, your " wallet" is full. 



DCCCLXX11I. 



judgments that we can form of men or things : " decipimur 
specie" is applicable to our maturest and best weighed 
opinions, nay, even our own consciences may deceive us: 
the intimate knowledge which must ensure an unerring 
judgment, belongs to God alone. 



But from the Author. 



3G0 



DCCCLXXIV. 

When we hear remonstrances from the pulpit against 
the neglect or violation of religious duties, and when 
we see congregations listening to them with apparent 
seriousness and attention, and when, on leaving the 
Church, we see the same persons with many others, 
walking along the streets and highways in decent 
silence and quiet, and apparently equally occupied with 
the sacred business of the day, we feel at a loss to 
conceive to whom the remonstrances we so lately heard 
were addressed. But we have been viewing mankind 
at a moment the most favorable to, and most stimulative 
of, their best dispositions. 



DCCCLXXV. 

I have said before, that publishing one's thoughts to 
the world, is holding a sort of conversation with it ; 
it should indeed be the result of previous " communing 
with ourselves," perhaps more than it has been with 
me : and I may add, that " litera scripta manet ;" but 
politeness does not forbid the reader to take up the book 
again, if he is disposed to reconsider any of its contents, 
though it does to desire a Man to repeat the words 
he has just uttered. The " vox audita perit" I am 
afraid is too much exemplified even in our attention 
to a sermon, though habitual attention will overcome 
this : but there must be something to build upon ; a dis- 
position to receive the " seed that is sown;" if there is 
not, nothing but weeds will be produced. 



301 



DCCCLXXVI. 

There are two ways of encouraging ourselves in im- 
proper indulgences, one by making advantageous compa- 
risons of ourselves with others, as the pharisee did with 
the publican, the other by sheltering ourselves under their 
example. There is indeed a third way, which is by fol- 
lowing our own impulses, without reflecting upon them 
at all. In this however we want no encouragement. 



DCCCLXXVIL 

We can only be made sensible of our ignorance by 
considering things that are beyond the reach of our know- 
ledge ; perhaps our unwillingness to consider them, may 
arise in part from our fear of undergoing the mortifying 
conviction of our ignorance. 



DCCCLXXV11I. 

The sense, the conviction, the acknowledgment of our 
ignorance, is the best, and perhaps the only preservative 
from making presumptuous, nay, erroneous conclusions ; 
for I cannot see how conclusions unsuggested, unau? 

3 A 



302 

thorized by knowledge, can be otherwise than erroneous and 
false :* conclusions must be founded on a train of rea- 
soning ; what train of reasoning can be followed where 
there is no knowledge to guide us ? If we do not arrive 
at truth, we must lose ourselves in falsehood : there 
may indeed be a mixture of both ; but however mixt, 
they must be distinct and separable from each other, and 
the bringing them together is itself an error, and a devi- 
ation from truth. 



PCCCLXXIX. 

To convince ourselves how much all things are 
connected, at least by their assemblage in the vast 
storehouse of the brain, we need only follow one train of 
thought, and observe how many others it will be 
generative of, and what an almost infinite number of 
ramifications it will spread out into : this indeed may 
arise more from the circumstances of time and place, 
than from the nature of the things themselves, so that 
a memory so constituted may be what the French wittily 
(and punningly) call a " Memoire d' Aubergiste ;" still 
however they must be connected, no matter by what, 
to suggest one another, and that connection will be more 
apparent if they all contribute to form one general conclu- 
sion, whether it immediately regards the first object of 
our contemplation, or not. 

* Except they have the luck to be true; 



363 



DCCCLXXX. 



As a dog decays and dies, so does a man ; " lie perishes 
like the beast of the field."— Yes, says a soul-denying 
materialist, the progress here is the same, and so will 
the conclusion be. — But does the dog think, reflect, and 
look forward? surely not; your analogy then ceases, 
and your own argument is turned against you ; the body, 
and animal spirits share the same fate in both, but the 
mind preserves its independence, and only changes the 
object of its regard ; from whence are the expectations 
which it forms, and from whence has the assurance been 
given that they will be realized ? 



DCCCLXXXI. 

The more of purity that a religion requires, the 
stronger is the proof of its sanctity and truth. Is not 
this applicable to the Reformed, in comparison with the 
Roman Catholic Church ? Does not the latter afford 
many refuges from tke stings of conscience, and the 
terrors of punishment, not in divine mercy, but in human 
indulgences and absolutions? These are grounded on 
the former it is true ; but with what adherence to the 
conditions it requires ? 



364 



DCCCLXXXIL 

The absolution of the Roman Catholic Church is a 
power assumed ; that of our liturgies is the declaration of 
a power possessed and exercised elsewhere : what more 
is it than the interpretation of the scriptural text? 
May not the right to interpret them be vested in the 
minister ? How else can his ministry be exercised ? 



DCCCLXXX111. 

The refinements of polished life are agreeable, and 
even important, when they do not descend to frivolities ; 
to these they cannot attach any real value. 



DCCCLXXXIV. 

The best novels that have been published may perhaps 
be compared to the Tom Hickathrifts, Jack the Giant- 
killers, &c. of our childhood, with this difference, that 
they are written with more thought and ingenuity, and so 
are better adapted to us grown children. The gilded 
sugar plum may be mixed with salutary ingredients. 



365 



DCCCLXXXV. 

" No peace nor ease that heart can know, 

u Which, like the needle true, 
" Turns at the touch of joy or woe, 

" But turning, trembles tq." 

True, Mrs. Greville ; but without this alternation, that 
peace and ease would be but apathy : and the sense of 
joy is doubled by the recollection of past woes, while 
that of woe is consoled by the hope of joy and peace, 
perhaps to come in this world, from Him who alone can 
give it ; but if not, certainly in the next, as promised 
by him to us, if we do not forfeit it. 



DCCCLXXXVI. 

The satisfaction that we cannot find in human pursuits^ 
and the best consolation for the disappointments they 
expose us to, we must seek in the conviction that they 
are of no real consequence. This is Horace's " Nil 
admirari," and Solomon's " vanitas vanitatum." We 
are shadows, and all we pursue on this side of the 
grave is nothing more. But it is not in vain thafe 
we are impelled to look forward j we may grasp at 
shadows here, but the substance is else-where ; and it 
is only for a while out of our reach. 



360 



DCCCLXXXV1I. 

We are apt sometimes to speak of a thing that we 
feel we ought to do, as being what we actually do. 
This may prevent our knowledge of the real state of 
our minds, which perhaps we are unwilling to acknow- 
ledge, even to ourselves, 



DCCCLXXXVI11. 

So powerful are our passions, and so dangerous 
their impulses, that we cannot safely give way to the indig- 
nation that the greatest crimes may excite in us. How 
strongly does this evince the truth of'* Vengeance is mine, 
I will repay, sailh the Lord." 



DCCCLXXX1X. 

Before we give way to the indignation that any injus- 
tice we think done to us may raise in our minds, we 
should make ourselves thoroughly sure that we have 
not deserved it. 



DCCCXC. 

It is in the correction of ourselves that the " Nil 
actum reputans si quid superesset agendum," deserves 
most to be attended to and followed. 



367 



DCCCXCI. 



The effect of a thing said depends much on the manner 
in which it is said ; more may be effected by a gentle 
touch (or rather titillation) than by a rough application ; 
and thus a new sense may be given to " suaviter 
(or perhaps jocositer) in raodo, fortiter in re." 



DCCOXCXL 

There are some things that will not admit of being 
treated with gentleness : when a man has committed 
a serious crime unpardonable here on earth, (and all crimes 
are in nature, even those that are against it,) he must hide 
his bead from every one but himself, and that he can- 
not do : he has shut up every avenue to real enjoyment ; 
he ha& " murdered peace," as surely as Macbeth did ; 
a terrible phantom will continually intrude upon his 
imagination, and 

"expellat furca tamen, usque recurret." 

Perhaps his only bar to suicide will be in the more 
than feminine timidity * which his crime has brought 
along with it ; he must not however forget that though 
the eye of man is shut agaiut him, that of God is not ; 
and that he has still the means of " finding favour in His 
sight." 

* This would be ill-exchanged for a desperate hardness ; nor would that 
be courage, which will best be shewn in bearing the consequence of, and 



308 



DCCCXC1II. 



One great help to candor is, not to consider every 
opinion declared, every wish or feeling expressed, as 
a mark of the constant and habitual disposition of the 
mind ; the feeling of one moment may be corrected and 
replaced by a better in the next. 



DCCCXCIV. 

Every man has a right to give his opinion, an<J 
no man has a right to dictate to others ; if the first 
was not done, there could be no discussion ; if the 
second was done all discussion would be precluded, 
or something worie would be substituted in its stead. 



DCCCXCVI. 

How partial, how fallible, how presumptuous, and 
consequently how unjust are human judgments; "who 
art thou that judgest another's servant?" may well be 
addressed to all mankind. 



atoning for the crime that has been committed ; the greatest courage 
is the exercise of patience. By plunging into eternity we shall only 
end the misery of this world, in falling into infinitely greater in the next : 
let the criminal hold his hand then, and try what repentance will do. 



369 






DCCCXCVII. 



Till Truth is fully displayed, there will always be 



room for humbugs, 



DCCCXCVIII. 



All that we can learn from the writings of others, 
will be of little use to us, if we do not reflect upon* 
and sometimes add to it ourselves. Those who think 
for themselves, will require no more to be said, than 
will give them a subject to think upon, a basis for 
a superstructure of their own ; those who do not, will 
ask, why has no more been said ? 






DCCCXCIX, 



It is very difficult, if at all possible, to lay down 
a general maxim that is not liable to at least a partial 
censure ; therefore all such should be received, if worthy 
of reception, with some qualifications, which perhaps 
the Author had not time to make, or if he had, the 
length of his maxim might have tired his reader* whose 
judgment is appealed to for its reception or rejections 

3 B 



370 



DCCCC. 



If there was not another world, Spinosa's system 
would be the only true one ; but can there be a stronger 
proof* (independent of Revelation) that there is ? 



DCCCCI. 

The promises of the Gospel, if true, are worth all 
the pains that can be taken, to understand and to 
put our confidence in them ; they accordingly may be 
expected to require some of this pains-taking, and they 
require no more than they deserve and will repay, 
for we shall find, that the more attention we bestow 
upon them, the more our confidence in them will be 
increased, and in the same proportion will our affections 
be prepared to receive the communications that have 
been given to us. Nothing more is required of us for 
the accomplishment of this purpose, than what our 
reason and our feelings, under proper regulation, will 
perfectly accord in, and what is equally accordant 
with all that we find in the Scriptures. 



DCCCCII. 

In an impressive discourse, the arguments used should 

* Stronger than this alternative. 



371 



be unanswerable,* and the questions put, such as will 
admit only of an answer in the affirmative ; and such 
will the doctrines of Christianity amply afford. 



DCCCCIII. 

The exertion of all human abilities is useful, even 
of those that are directed to improper objects, or are 
even designedly malevolent ;f for they excite (as evil 
produces good) the efforts of the better disposed, to 
counteract them. If this is true, how much more it 
behoves us to be candid to those who are mistaken 
in their objects, or in the means they take to pursue 
them ; and what lenity ought we not to shew to the 
passions that may have led them into error. Peccare 
et errare, so considered, are almost synonymous terms. 



DCCCCIV. 

In a state like ours, made up as it is of pleasures 
a;:d pains, of sufferings and consolations, the enquiry 
where happiness is to be found, seems almost an idle 
one ; our sufferings and enjoyments are continually 
counteracting each other, and the only question is, 
on which side the preponderance lies ; all the ideas 
we can form of divine justice and benevolence, neces^ 

* By any arguments that can reasonably be offered. 
t Useful, but not in obtaining credit or satisfaction to ourselves, 



372 



sitate us to believe that it is on that of good. *< If to 
all men happiness is meant," it must be on certain 
conditions ; but it does not consist so much in actual 
enjoyment, as in the hope of future ; and the prospect 
of that must be encouraged by the retrospect of our 
past lives, and the consciousness of our present desire 
and endeavours to fulfil our duties. 



DCCCCV. 

Those who think are worth writing for, but not 
those who do not think ; unless it is to make them 
think. Are thoughts so applied a stimulus or a touch- 
stone ? " Fungar vice cotis," says Horace. May 1 ? 



DCCCCVI. 

" There is nothing new under the sun," which 
lends its light to give the lustre of novelty to what 
is old. 

Repetition may be censured, but it is the repetition 
of phrases, not of thought, for the best* that can 
suggest themselves deserve most to be repeated ; as 
the best and most frequent impressions are made from 
the finest engravings. 

" Is this a beaten track? ne'er beat enough, 
Till enough learnt the truths it would inspire/' 



Thoughts 



373 



Reader, have not your feelings been most strongly 
excited, when awakened into the recollection of what 
formerly interested them ? 



DCCCCVII. 

Our thoughts are like a lazy horse ; they require 
a spur. 



DCCCCVIII. 

Mere memory recalls ideas; judgment, or if you 
will, imagination, arranges and associates them. 



DCCCCIX. 

Imagination is the best exciter, Reason the best 
calculater ; what the first throws in, the second weighs 
and appreciates. 



DCCCCX. 

The brackets of a parenthesis are a break in a sentence, 
commas a pause, and both are used to introduce a colla- 
teral thought, of which Italics are an enforcement.* 



* See No DCCCLXXL 



374 



DCCCCXI. 

Feeling is the strongest excitement of the mind ; as 
Waller felt, when he wrote, " Peace Chloris, peace, or 
singing die," &c. 



DCCCCXII. 

It seems as if people cannot enjoy what is beautiful 
in itself, without connecting it with something that 
degrades it; such is the giving the name of "Waltzes to 
the beautiful airs of Beethoven,* &c. Is this from a 
prevalent depravity of morals ? No, it is the light, 
capricious, and it is to be hoped, short-lived fashion of 
the day, that has thus polluted our best feelings and most 
refined enjoyments; but this profanation of Nature's 
choicest gifts cannot last. 



* Still worse than this, the gross simplicity of the Swiss is exchanged 
for the — I will not say delicacy, of more polished nations, which have 
not that simplicity to plead as an excuse. The Waltz however I find 
has undergone some curtailments. 



375 



DCCCXII1. 

Satire cannot be too strong, when it lias a proper 
object ; but the object ceases to be so, when satirized 
beyond its deserts ; as the Duke of Chandos was by Pope. 
Such satire defeats its own end, and is only fit to gratify 
ill nature ; it has not even the merit of a caricature, to 
soften that into a laugh. 



PCCCCXIV. 

How strongly must every one who knows how his 
talent ought to be used, partake x>f St. Paul's anxiety, 
" lest he himself should be a cast-away!" 



DCCCCXV. 

Let our houses and places be as magnificent and beau- 
tiful as they may, much the greatest part of the enjoy- 
ment of them, will be comprised in the word home. This 
is indeed a striking instance of the justice and bene- 
volence of Providence, and no less so in thus giving 
us a kind of foretaste and preparation, for that longer 
home to which we must all come at last, and which we thus 
unconsciously look forward to almost from our very 
nursery. 



376 



DCCCCXVL 



As much comfort is enjoyed in having satisfied the 
appetite, as in satisfying it ; but if we do more than 
satisfy it all comfort is at an end. This is as much 
a moral, as a physical truth. May not most of us say, 
*' Expert© crede.' ? 



DCCCCXVII. 

The more we enjoy present comforts, whether real 
or fancied, the less are we inclined to anticipate future 
disappointments; nor would it be a friendly office in others 
to prepare us for them. 



DCCCCXVIIL 

As all judgments must be formed from comparisons, all 
errors in judgment must arise from making false ones. 
Those who do not feel an interest in tracing errors to 
their source, will either not understand this, or will disre- 
gardit; but Oh, what do we gain by this knowledge of 
our weakness? yes, we gain the knowledge of truth; we 
gain what may mortify, but will console ns — will lower 
those pretensions that can give no real happiness* 



.377 



DCCCCXIX. 

From what men are in some instances, we may guess 
pretty nearly what they will be in others ; their charac- 
teristics being the same, as causes, they will produce the 
same effects, and the more as we act in imitation of one 
another. However monotonous this may be, it is one of 
the great securities of life, as we know by it what we 
are to expect ; and there is still variety and novelty 
enough left both to amuse and instruct. Extraordinary 
occasions, which we have no good reason to wish for, 
though rash and presumptuous* spirits may, must be met 
by extraordinary minds, and it is there that the different 
degrees of ability, under the guiding hand of Providence, 
shew themselves. Patience, perseverance, and resigna- 
tion, are the supports and stays of life, and even in death 
we have a reliance and example given us, in Him who 
suffered death, that we may rise again. 



DCCCCXX. 

It has not entered into the head of man to conceive the 
joys of heaven, but it surely has entered into his heart 
to wish for them, and the only idea we can form of them, 
is in the sense we feel of our own capacities and desires. 
This too is " a beaten track." 



* Or at least ardent, 
3 C 



378 



DCCCCXXI. 

As there are debasements, so there are exaltations 
in the human character ; nor would these opposites have 
been put into action, if their results were not opposite 
also ; but no — without the sole great act of atonement, 
how small would have been the difference between these 
results! How would the " wheat and the chaff" have 
been confounded, which He who made that atonement, 
He whose " fan is in his hand," alone can separate. 



DCCCCXXII. 

The different courses of life, like rivers, all end in 
the great ocean of eternity, into which they flow. It 
is not the mere difference of their courses (for what 
" part" in life may not be " acted well?") that de- 
termines their situation in that ocean, various as may 
be the ingredients of which the great mass of its waters 
is composed ; small we may hope is the portion which 
will not admit of being purified. 



DCCCCXXII1. 

" The few who are above jealousy, and the many who 
are below it." — " Gaitks and Gravities " vol. i. page 129, 



37tt 



According to this, and the classification in these pages^ 
the preference generally given to the middle class of 
society, appears to be a mistaken one ; but I believe 
that these classifications are all so, and the distinction 
between the characters of individuals, is in great mea- 
sure independent of them ; were it not so indeed, there 
would not be that just level preserved, which is observ- 
able throughout the moral world. Providence has exclu- 
sively attached no particular qualities to the middle, 
or any one class, but lias left it to the free agency of 
individuals, under certain restrictions, to deserve as much 
of its favor, as what has been given to them enables them 
to do. While I am writing this, I cannot help feeling the 
sense of its benevolent spirit, and trusting that my modicum 
of talent and its exercise, may obtain for me that favor 
which no exertion of the longest life can be too much to 
earn ; nor, I hope, do the superior gifts of others raise any 
jealousy or envy in me, that my better thoughts are not 
sufficient, with the grace of Providence, to quell. 



DCCCCXXIV. 

July 1, 1826. I have just been reading the descrip- 
tion of the cemetery of Pere la Chaise, in the first volume 
of " Gaities and Gravities," and I cannot help thinking that 
its feeling and eloquent author would have done well to 
consider whether the display which he so well describes, 
impressive as it is, may not be a substitute for more serious, 
(I will not add more real) feelings, and more consonant 



380 



to the faith which has been given and enjoined to us, and 
with which our countrymen, or at least the great majority 
of them, may atone for the neglect they shew of the ex- 
hibitions which our continental neighbours so pompously 
display; several of the circumstances which the author 
himself relates, will I think make him sensible that the 
former, except in what relates to the shameful mischiefs 
(shameful even in school-boys) committed in Westminster 
Abbey, will not lose by the comparison. May I add, that 
the Author of this lively and very amusing (and no less 
interesting) work, will perhaps find that his second and 
more serious thoughts are at variance with some of the first 
ebullitions of his fancy and his feelings ? It is not always 
the first impressions which objects give us, that we are to 
trust to, but other and more important ones with which 
they are associated.* The ingenious author will not be 
offended at this hint, given him by a real " Septuagena- 
rian," who, alive as he is to the " gaieties," feels also the 
call which the " gravities" of these subjects have on his 
attention. 

How apt are the finest displays of imagination to shew 
that they want the guidance of reason and reflection ! If 
the equally ingenious author of Gaieties and Gravities will 
weigh these observations, he will find that they come from 
one who " loves truth more than he bates France," though 
he is by no means conscious of doing the latter. In going 
on with the perusal of his work, the reader must feel his 



* Some observations, relative to this, may also be made upon the 
defence of" simulation," in the article if Pleasant illusions." 



381 



high raised expectation of continued amusement and in- 
terest: shall we call it an exertion of genius, or an almost 
spontaneous flow ? will it in either case run itself out ? 



DCCCCXXV. 

In a strong mind there cannot be much sensibility, for 
strength and weakness are opposites, and cannot approach 
each other, without some diminution of one or the other. 
Sensibility, however amiable, must have its share of the 
latter, whatever degree there is of it in a strong mind, 
must be assumed or fancied. Some strong minds have 
been said to have possessed it, as Chancellor Thurlow's, &c. 
but in these either the strength or weakness must have 
been assumed, perhaps the former, for we can hardly sup- 
pose a human mind to be divested of all sensibility ; in 
that case, it would not be strength, but hardness. In the 
Supreme Being himself we cannot suppose a want of sensi- 
bility, consistently with his mercy ; but in him the Attributes 
temper each other in a manner that we can have no con- 
ception of; we can only judge of qualities as they mix 
themselves in our finite nature. 



DCCCCXXV1. 

Poetry, Painting, and Music,* are all divine ; all, 

* Our best sculptors, particularly Mr. Chantrey, will not require me 
to add their art to the men'ion of the three to which it is so nearly allied, 



382 



the more deeply they are studied and felt, more forcibly 
raise our thoughts to the great fountain from whence they, 
and all the best gifts that have been bestowed on man, 
flow. 



DCCCCXXV1L 

How often may we find that the intensity of our feelings 
makes up for the defects of our ability to express them, in 
whatever mode we attempt it ! May not we reasonably 
hope, that those defects will be supplied in a future state — 
in the great consummation of ail things ? 



DCCCCXXV1II. 

Is it by their bodies, their outward forms, that men 
are chiefly known ? No, surely, it is by their spirits, 
by the mind that directs their actions and conduct ; 
we consult, tis true, the characters of animals, parti- 
cularly horses, but it is only as they are subservient 
to the uses of man ; and to whom is man himself sub- 
servient, but to his Creator, who certainly has made him 
" a little lower than the angels." And is this servant of 
God intended only to crawl for awhile upon the earth, or 
to lift up his head and strut about among his fellow 
reptiles ? No, surely, the very " Os sublime," which is 
given him, marks the high destiny which he looks up to, 
and to which his soul aspires ; all his hopes, all his fears 



383 



point to that immortality which he longs for, and for which 
any name that he may leave behind him is but a miser- 
able substitute ; for all the praise of men, during our lives, 
or after our deaths, is as nothing, in comparison with the 
favor of that Being who "made him in his own image," 
that, if we shew ourselves worthy of it, he may take us 
finally to Himself; if the contrary, that he may consign us 
to that state of punishmeut which must be final and 
eternal, after our trial on earth is over ; or if that state too is 
a temporary one, that we may be prepared (for surely all 
trial must then be over) for a higher and better state after 
it. But this is the dream of popery,* or at least the sub- 
stitute which our reason would vainly form, for the de- 
claration made to us in the gospels, in which indeed dif- 
ferent degrees of punishment are denounced against the 
evil-doers, but no mention is made of their being pre- 
paratory to any thing that is to follow. Purgatory ! for 
what ? To wash out the stains which we might have 
avoided the contamination of ourselves with (for why else 
was our free agency given to us ?) in this our state of trial, 
and which therefore must be fixed upon us, as they have been 
by ourselves, with all their consequences, for ever. True, 
the mercy of God may, and doubtless will, wash out some 
of them, and be shewn in its lenity to the rest, but will 
only be so in consideration of the better marks by which 
we have atoned for them, in subordination to the great 
atonement which He himself has made through our blessed 



* Or rather an artifice, to increase its own power ; for whicb purpose 
it thus throws out a temptation to 6*in ; to commit venial sins, to which it 
assigns absolution or punishment. 



384 

Saviour, for what we could not free ourselves from here. 
Ask not why this has been done, for who can oppose the 
suggestions of his reason to the declarations of God him- 
self ? Ask only if these declarations have really been 
made by him, and see whether a fair examination of them 
does not tell thee that they have. Let us then strive to 
deserve the favor of God, by fulfilling the conditions on 
which it is promised to us. 



DCCCCXXIX. 

When all the arguments that we can use, tend to one 
point, when our hopes and our fears unite in urging them 
to it, however short they may fall of it, that point must be 
the final one of our conclusions; either that or none ; 
either they must mean that, or they must mean nothing ; 
and it is not surely for this that we have the power of 
forming them given to us. 



JDCCCCXXX. 

Reasoning on serious subjects should be so managed, 
as to be intelligible to the lightest, and impressive on 
the deepest thinkers. 



385 



DCCCCXXXI. 

The partial judgments that men form, are caused as 
well by their imperfect ability to judge of combined sub- 
jects, as by their eagerness to give way to their first im- 
pressions, which may be observed in men of the acutest 
minds, and greatest acquirements; and, what does no 
great credit to human judgment — the more in proportion 
to both these. " This also is vanity." 



DCCCCXXXII. 

To what I have already said of " Gaieties and Gravi- 
ties," 1 cannot help adding, tbat I think they shew the 
author's imagination to be more impelled by his feelings 
than chastised by his judgment; but his imaginatioG is so 
agreeably and inoffensively luxuriant, that J think we 
cannot wish it to be otherwise than it is. When I write 
this, however, 1 am only in his first volume ; but the spe- 
cimen it has given me of his feelings is my warrant ; if his 
work disappoints me afterwards, I shall be tempted to 
throw it into the fire, or 

" In vicum vendentem thus et odores." 



DCCCCXXXII1. 

What feelings, or what expression of them, can ex- 
ceed those of Cicero ? Whoever united the politician 

3 D 



386 



and philosopher like him ? He stands like a Colossus 
(far superior to Caesar) as it were in both worlds. I wish 
some able hand would draw a comparison between his 
writings and those of Seneca, and also of Plutarch ; but 
what would not this embrace? A "Vita brevis" would 
hardly be sufficient for it. 



DCCCCXXXIV. 

As self-love is so predominant in us, it is not one of 
the least instances of the wisdom and goodness of Provi- 
dence, that our social duties and our selfish feelings are 
so connected, that the fulfilment of the one is the highest 
gratification of the other. 



DCCCCXXXV. 

How little does the philosophy of Materialism (pure 
Materialism) regard feeling ! or rather, how little is it 
consistent with itself! 



DCCCCXXXVI.. 

How much may be said of a subject, if we take in the 
words in which it is expressed ! — a further proof of the 
connection, if not identity, of words and things. 



387 



dccccxxxvii. 



The intellectual, as well as the material world, may be 
infinitely divisible ; if so, how can the mind of man ex- 
haust its resources ? 



DCCCCXXXVIIL 

Space is measured by objects, time by events; with- 
out these, time and space would be nothing-; but there 
must be other existences, or else all is a void, filled up by 
illusions; from whence do these proceed ? From invisi- 
ble beings, whose existence we cannot see into. 



DCCCCXXXIX 

Reason is circumscribed, imagination is unbounded ; 
each therefore should be addressed accordingly. " Wit, 
whether wilt?" should however be used as a rein, or as a 
call-back to a hound that over-runs his scent. 



DCCCCXL. 

It is somewhat singular, that in addressing a person 
by his name, we should shew that we are more attentive 



388 



to the subject of our thoughts than to him ; that the first 
should be uppermost in our thoughts, and his name on our 
tongues ; this probably is to press it as home to him as 
it is to ourselves, 1 mean where no personality is intended. 



DCCCCXLI. 

If we attend to the expression of opinions that are at 
variance with the scriptures, we shall generally rind, that 
they are asserted without any reference to, or comparison 
with the latter ; a proof that the comparison is shrunk 
from. 



DCCCCXLII. 

The pleasures of hunting, shooting, and fishing, are in 
the enjoyment of nature, seasoned with that of destroying 
her productions. To what shall we assign this ?* 



DCCCXLIII. 

Tautology is sometimes justified by the enforcement 
it gives ; as in our prayer to be " defended (doubly help- 
less as we then are,) from all the perils and dangers of 
this night," &c. 

* Perhaps to the mixed qualities of our nature. 



389 



DCCCCXL1V. 

•' Percontatorem fugito, nam garrulus idem est.'* 
But the garrulous man need not be inquisitive to make 
him troublesome ; it is enough that he is garrulous : his 
perseverance in talking (which, makes him what the 
French call " a mill,") the tone he speaks in, and the 
laugh of self-approbation which he generally accompa- 
nies it with, are equal interferences with the rights of 
others : he will neither give himself nor them time to 
think ; and without that what can he say worth hearing ? 
Those to whom he is talking may listen to him from com- 
plaisance, or from necessity, but they cannot do it with 
pleasure. But his garrulity may have still worse con- 
sequences ; it must either proceed from and confirm his 
self-conceit, or from a wish to drive away reflection ; 
perhaps he will say that he has no need of that, but 
he is mistaken, for his first thoughts are mere impulses, 
reflection can only come in the " second ;" and either the 
proverb which says they are " best" is untrue, or else 
he may be dispensed from the observance of it, and 
who can lay claim to that ? 

There is however this difference between the above 
character and that of the proud, vain-glorious, and dog- 
matical man ; the one may be susceptible of good 
humour and even of good feelings, which the other can- 
not be ; in the one is a partial selfishness, the other is 
wholly absorbed in it ; he makes all his intercourse with 
society, mixed as it perhaps is with servile adulation^ 
merely subservient to his own selfish propensities -, in the 



390 

one is a superficial vanity, in the other a deep rooted 
selfishness. 



DCCCCXLV. 

.Evils are so interwoven in our nature, and so produc- 
tive of, and connected with each other in society, that per- 
haps it is not too much to say, that the eradication of no 
one can be effected without that of all the rest ; if that 
were to take place, man would no longer be what he is, 
but would become what he can only be in another 
World, where alone " the just will be made perfect." 



DCCCCXLVI. 

Every thing but God himself may (probably must) have 
had a beginning ; evil particularly, as we are told that 
it will have an end, when this state of imperfection 
and trial shall end in the re-establishment of good and 
the consummation of all things, which can only be by 
that re-establishment. Evil exists in and for a time ; 
when time is no more (as we are told, and as our re- 
flections tell us it will be) evil will cease, and good 
alone will become permanent and everlasting; evil will 
exist only where it has its punishment, in that of those 
by whom it has come, and good will no longer be mixed 
and contaminated with it. 



391 



DCCCCXLVII. 

It cannot be denied, that the whiskers now worn have 
much more of a savage than a gentlemanly appearance; 
nor can I see why they should be thought necessary to 
give or increase the appearance of courage in our soldiers ; 
unless we are to look for it in the chin or upper lip. A 
Christian or civilized soldier, should surely be distinguished 
from aHuu, a Mahometan, or a Tartar. The soldiers of a 
British sovereign should not resemble those of a Scandina- 
vian, a Mahometan, or even a German, nor should courage 
wear the marks of ferocity : a soldier should not look upon 
his fellow-citizens with the same face that he looks at his 
enemies; such a confusion of distinctions might suit the 
satellites of a despot like Attila, but surely cannot become 
the soldiers of George the Fourth, and the defenders of their 
country. 



DCCCCXLVIII. 

Who would expect sensuality in patriotism ? But are 
there not many who make the occasion of a public dinner 
that of gratifying their own private appetites, reasonable 
indeed when under proper restraint, for we may eat and 
drink in a man's praise, aye, and give him " three times 
three" into the bargain, but " beastly" when " indulged 
their fulsome fill." This however in some is ennobled by 
being amalgamated with the exalted ambition of heading 
a mob, of stirring up all the passions that excite men to 



392 

resist lawful authority, and that tune their "most sweet 
voices" to the cries of "Confusion to — " "Down with — " 
&c. Oh ! eloquence like courage is best displayed with 
a full stomach, and John Bull is in all his glory when he 
becomes the master of an infuriated herd. On such occa- 
sions as this (June 1826) when men may spend thousands 
and tens of thousands in exciting all the "passions" that 
drunkenness can "raise" not " quell" — to deeds of as glo- 
rious as seditious note, till 

" At length with rage and wine opprest 
" The yanquish'd victors" 

sink under the tables which they have been wallowing 
upon. 

Hail, all hail, ye candidates for counties, cities and 
boroughs, and ye peers who support them, who honor 
yourselves and your fellow-creatures by the performance 
and excitement of such exploits as these ; brass, brass 
is the metal of which your statues should be composed, 
for bronze would not " shine" sufficiently to illustrate 
and equal such " deeds before men." Well may you sit 
down in self-applause, with your heads full and your 
pockets empty, after having performed them.* 



* Perhaps however something may be said in defence of these con- 
stitutional breaches of morality, and they may more require to be mode- 
rated than totally extirpated. 



/> 



.393 



DCCCCXLIX. 



" VlDERE meliora et probare" is not sufficient to 
secure our integrity ; what we see and approve of we 
must adhere to in practice ; to do this, we must not 
indulge any habit that will lessen our title to the esteem 
of others ; if we do, their confidence in us will be lessened 
in an equal proportion. 



DCCCCL. 

Of a book containing moral reflections, the first ques- 
tion to be asked is, are its statements true ? The second, 
are they useful and important? These two points* 
gained, the work must l>e interestii>9 ; the rest, how- 
ever recommendatory, is mere amusement. 



DCCCCLL 

If we approve of any thing improper in the conduct of 
others, we must either do it from ignorance of all the cir- 

* Perspicuity indeed is another point which I fear may have been 
sometimes wanting in these " suggestions of the moment." — See the preface. 

3 E 



394 



cumatances of their case, or from our own want of a sense 
of propriety, and perhaps from an aptitude to mistake a 
display of vanity for that of right thinking and feeling. 



DCCCCLII. 

The similar destructions of the mile-stones and monu- 
ments in this country, give us at least the consolation of 
knowing, that it is not so much the desire of destroying 
what is above us, and reducing it to our own barbarous 
level, that occasions this devastation, as the pure (pure? 
aye, the very essence of purity) love of mischief, whether 
in school-boys, or in full grown barbarians. 



DCCCCLIII. 

As in poetry every epigram should " like a jelly bag" 
be " pointed at its end," so in prose, every sentence should 
end with a climax. This will give a sort of dramatic 
effect to compositions, and perhaps be an improvement 
upon Horace's 

" Servetur ad imum 
" Qualis ab incepto processerit."* 



* Perhaps the best way of securing this will be, by chusing a subject 
and style that will support its writer, who should not depend too much 
upon, nor oter-rate his own powers, 

"Ne 

" Peccet ad extrenura ridendus," &c. 



395 



DCCCCLIV. 

Verses in a bower at St. Leonard's Hill : — 

" These peaceful shades, this low-roof d bower, 
" Great Maker, all are full of thee ; 

" Thine is the bloom that decks the flower, 
" And thine the fruit that bends the tree. 

" As much creative goodness charms 
" In these low shrubs that humbly creep, 

" As in the oak, whose giant arms, 
" Wave o'er the high romantic steep,. 

" The bower, the shade, retir'd, serene, 
" The grateful heart may most affect, 

" Here God in ev'ry leaf is seen, 
" And man has leisure to reflect." 

So he has, as much as the duties, or perhaps rather the 
attractions of society will allow him. No, the best reuec- 
tion is on his pillow, or at least "in his chamber;" there 
are no objects but what are within himself. 



DCCCCLV. 

V. 

In the retributions awarded to the actions of men here 
on earth, Providence seems to leave them to their natural 
operations and consequences, except when particular 
visitations are called for, as appears to have been the 



396 

case in a late fatal duel, I think in Newfoundland, 
where the greatest and most brutal provocation had 
been given by him who fell in it ; this indeed may have 
heen the case of a madman, (but whose was " the madness 
of the heart") who was merely taken out of the world, 
because he was not fit to live in it; the next we cannot 
penetrate into. 



DCCCCLVI. 

A candid and judicious man will take both sides of a 
question, will weigh and compare them both, and will carry 
his reasoning farther back than to what may be suggested 
by the separate view of either of them ; and how other- 
wise can the deep and complicated state of human affairs 
be explained ? 



DCCCCLVII. 

If the actions of a truly liberal man correspond with his 
opinions, he must be an "honest man," in the widest sense 
of Pope's appellation, for he will be just to others as 
he is to himself ; and he will look forward with hope to 
the realization of the pictures which his " mind's eye" 
represents to him. 



397 



DCCCCLVIII. 

.Nothing does a man more credit in discussion than 
to shew himself candid and reasonable at the same time. 
His statements, if they are not an exact representation 
of the truth, are at least that of its best features, and 
are such as you wish to see realized in the cha- 
racters of others as well as his own. The friend whose 
conversation I remarked this in, a short time since, 
will take this as a tribute due to himself. Go thou, 
reader, and do likewise. 



DCCCCLIX. 

Men's incredulity 1 believe often arises from the 
narrowness of their mental vision. 



DCCCCLX. 

*' A man may smile and smile, and be a villain," cer- 
tainly ; but will not even his smiles, if well observed, 
betray him ? Is not truth to be known by her own 
image ? 



398 



DCCCCLXI. 



We are apt to judge of men by the treatment we have 
met from them ; but if ill, have we not often drawn it 
upon ourselves ? If we flatter ourselves, it must be at 
their expence. 



DCCCCLXIL 

If men were to cease to exist after having collected 
all the stores of knowledge which the world produces, 
and treasured them up for the use of posterity, the only 
reward for their labours that could be assigned to them, 
would be in our adopting the absurd supposition, that 
those who came after them, to exist also for a little 
while, were a continuance of themselves.* 



DCCCCLXIII. 

Those who attempt to reconcile God and Mammon, may 
well feel the pangs of remorse and fear ; but those even 
who attempt to reconcile the pure evidences of God, f with 
their own imperfect knowledge and condition, must also 
have their anxieties, soothed however with the hope of 
divine mercy and assistance. 

* So they perhaps are, in what they have gained; but their benefactors 
may hope for something more for themselves, if otherwise entitled to it. 
t In the Scriptures. 



399 



DCCCCLXIV. 



Ignorance may be a fair excuse for doubt, but it 
must be an ignorance far greater than what we can pretend 
to be left under. 



DCCCCLXV. 

Procrastination is (as Young observes,) so strong 
a propensity in our nature, that I can see no other means 
of correcting it, but by giving, if it were possible, a 
retrogress, instead of a progress, to time, and changing 
the resolution, (or re-resolution, if Young pleases) to begin 
a thing to-morrow, to the fact (for factum it will then be) 
of having actually begun it yesterday. By this modus 
agendi, (in which we might he assisted by our neighbours 
across the western channel) the happy effect would be 
produced of making procrastination (then become retro- 
heri-tination) the benefactor, instead of " the thief of 
time ;" and every thing being changed, the source of hu- 
man actions would be changed also (et nos mutaremur) 
and what is now reproach would become approach ; re- 
probation, approbation, &c. Whether all this can be 
brought about I will not pretend to determine; but if 
men cannot thus be cheated into expedition instead of 
delay, I much fear that the case must be considered as 
desperate, and that we must go on procrastinating, " year 
after year, till all are fled."* 

* Excuse this" flight of fancy," Reader. 



400 



DCCCCLXV1. 

Jt is not always easy to draw the line between assur- 
ance and impudence, though their etymologies might help 
us in making the distinction. Assurance may beget the 
confidence in which it is founded, but impudence never 
can, agreeable as it may be under a mask, but when bare- 
faced, producing nothing but fear or disgust. It may 
be corrigible when proceeding from want of discretion, 
but never when from want of feeling ; and only is tolerable, 
when associated, as is hinted above, with Hypocrisy, 
thus being amalgamated into a double poison. 



DCCCCLXV1I. 

If all men were reduced to one level, there would be 
no model for others to imitate, or to improve themselves 
by ; the general level would be the lowest that could be 
found, for men would be glad to save themselves the 
trouble of improvement, when they had none to compare 
themselves with, for comparison requires difference of de- 
grees, from the positive to the superlative ; the compara- 
tive being the medium by which the others are measured, 
better or worse than those below, or those above us; 
all therefore cannot be the best, none can be better, and 
what remains but the very worst ; for even good is com- 
parative with those below it : better supposes worse, worse 



401 

supposes better : good is the opposite of bad, and an ex- 
emption from it, as " optimus ille qui minimis (vitiis) 
urgetur !" 



IXJCCCLXVIII. 

The thoughts of the mind are the only broken chain 
whose links can replace themselves. 

You have called your's " Night Thoughts,'* Young; 
but they must have been your Morning Thoughts too. 



DCCCCLX1X. 

What we cannot ha\e positive proof of, we may have 
nearly as strong in negative, such as is that of the 
immortality of the Soui ; but what an addition to this 
are the promises of the Scriptures! 



DCCCCLXX. 

The doubts of sceptical men, as they begin from the 
narrow basis of their own knowledge and opinion (mixed 
with a tolerable share of self-conceit) so they generally 
end in a reference. to themsehes and their own con- 
cerns, to which they turn as to a diversion from the 
difficulties into which an inscrutable subject has led 

them. 

3 F 



402 



DCCCCLXXI. 

One cause of doubt may be in indolence, which wilt 
.not allow us to take the trouble of an examination, and 
forces us into rejection, in order to excuse ourselves ; 
another more pardonable may be the desire of further 
satisfaction, which we might probably obtain by our 
own endeavours. A certain degree of self-satisfaction 
we cannot help attaining or assuming, aud the pain of 
doubt, arises from the sense of the importance of the 
subject, and the consciousness that if any thing is 
worth our care during this short-lived existence, it must 
be what is to come after it. 



DCCCCLXXII. 

I SUSPECT that the dislike which some have to me- 
taphysical abstractions, arises from their fear of being 
led by them into finer and more subtle examinations 
than the grossness of their own conceptions would bear; 
the sensualist may well dislike sentiment, and the im- 
moral man the purity of unbodied spirit, but does not 
this lead to the rejection of all religious meditation ? 
Does it not bind us down to earth, answering Horace's 
description, 

" affigit humo divinae particulam aurae." 

No, the particle of divine air that animates the material 
part of rational man, will mount aloft, and will aspire 



40:5 



to regions more congenial with her feelings : Frederic 
of Prussia, and other Deists, who only believe in the 
existence of a God because they must, may totally 
separate him from his creatures, and leave him nothing 
to do, but to enjoy his own existence, and may con- 
clude that because they feel nothing but the impulses 
of their own earthly appetites, we have none that will 
survive the grave; having nothing of the God within them, 
they cannot assimilate* any of their ideas of him whose 
images they have ceased to be : they may indeed have 
sometimes a feeling of awe, and even of love,f but the 
one is unmixed with future hope, the other unrefined 
by aspiiations to better objects than those which attract 
ihem here : here they grovel, and here ihey will sink 
into the depths to which they gravitate : even their 
fellow creatures, the horse, the dog, &c. are informed 
with better feelings, though theirs have a reference 
only to their existence here; they go no farther than to 
shew to man that there, are beings under him which 
depend upon and look up to him, as he does to those 
above him, on whom he depends, and to whom he 
aspires. 



DCCCCLXXII1. 

"What can we reason but from what we know," 
the Deist may say ; but surely we know enough to reason 



* To their own feelings. f Not divii 



404 



to what we do not know ; else how are we to believe in 
a£od? 



DCCCCLXXIV. 

What is it (I believe I have asked this question before) 
that constitutes what is generally called ** a clear head ?" 



DCCCCLXXV. 

A CLEAR head and deep reasoning, ought to (perhaps 
must) po together ; without the first, the second cannot 
Ibe attained ; without clearness, both of the subject and 
the discussion of it, we can see the bottom of nothing ; and 
even when our sight is interrupted by the depth of the 
medium between it and its object, a beautiful blue light 
will present itself, that tells us something still more 
luminous is beyond.* 



DCCCCLXXV1. 

Descriptions the least flattering often require the cor- 
recting hand of truth, for the describer will embellish, if 
hot for the sake of the object he describes, at least to 



* So yie speak of a clear ihy* 



405 



recommend his own descriptions, and to justify the ad- 
miration which drew it from him ; so that self-love and 
social flattery here unite, and vanity has a double tribute 
paid to her. If the describer is iufluenced by a contrary 
motive, he will either be silent, or by a single sentence 
he will "damn with faint praise." Here vanity and 
spleen divide the tribute between them. The eye of 
criticism will see through both these impostuies, and 
will exemplify the " magna est Veritas, et praevaiebit." 



DCCCCLXXVJl. 

Men's wants are the same ;(i. e. their material ones) 
at all times; the means they take of supplying those 
wants will, a peu de choses pres, be the same also. Let 
the antiquarian apply this to his enquiries into the dif- 
ferences of usages, utensils, &c* 



DCCCCLXXVIlf. 

Men's minds in general are not equal to reasoning on 
an enlarged scale, but it is the only solid ground of rea- 
soning, as human affairs themselves are extensive in 
their combinations, beyond the power of reason , to ana- 
lize; and such an undertaking would perhaps be like 
an intellectual Tower of Babel, and would produce a 



Still Upwe^er t]bey 91$ Antfyyitia. 



406 



confusion of opinions, as the building of that did a con- 
fusion of tongues. To lift or remove a heavy mass 
(and what are more so than prejudices ?) will require 
an union of forces, which time only can accumulate ; 
when the removal becomes more necessary, or less dif- 
ficult, what men will do must depend more or less on what 
they think they can do, and some of it on what other 
feelings may dispose them to do. 



DCCCCLXX1X. 

The present style of singing and playing is a display of 
power with which we find ourselves astonished, and fancy 
ourselves pleased, pleased with what in fact we are hurried 
out of ali power or time to attend to. A simpler style, 
with more expression, (for which distinctness and articula- 
tion are required) is less surprising, but much more in- 
teresting. It were to be wished that singers and players 
would exert themselves, not to show what they can do, 
but how much they cau make their hearers feel.* The 
** modesty of Nature," may be " overstepped" in singing, 
as well as in acting. But I can speak only for myself. 



DCCCCLXXX. 

I think we want no other proof of the confusion pro- 
duced in our minds by the business or no business of the 



* To do this (of a pun may be allowed) they must submit to being 
a little dis-graced. Their * graces" indeed go almost " beyond the reach 
of Art." Poor Nature is quite out of the question. 



407 



day, than we may have in observing the state of them when 
we awake in the morning, free as they then are (I speak 
to those who think) to attend to any particular subject 
that may occur to them. How much then is required 
at other times to force that attention to subjects that are 
abstracted from the more engaging occupations of the 
world, or the enjoyments of the senses! Ah misfortune, 
what a share must thou have in forcing it! and what a 
school is adversity ! For this are individuals, for this 
are nations visited. And what are those lessons for ? 
Merely a preparation for extinction of thought? Oh ! no. 



DCCCCLXXXI. 

How amply do increasing years repay what they take 
from us, by the increasing powers and habits of reflection 
which they give to us ! 



DCCCCLXXXII. 

A sense of Religion is necessary to give a " heart 
and substance to the joys" of life, which their shortness 
and uncertainty will not otherwise allow them to have. 
What joys can exceed those of gratitude for blessings 
received? AH must be dispensed, nothing can corre by 
chance, for chance itself is nothing: all is a chain of causes 
and effects, which must originate in a First Cause, whose 



408 



decrees are founded in that wisdom which alone can give 
them the force of necessity ; for choice must be regulated, 
otherwise it would be caprice. The greater our joys are, 
the more they require a dependence, which cannot be 
placed on themselves, for they are fleeting and changeable ; 
that dependence then must be on the power and the will 
of Him who dispenses them, and who can substitute others 
and better for any that He may deprive us of; from Him 
we have our being, from Him we have all things that 
we enjoy. 



DCCCCLXXXIII. 

Confessing our sins is certainly a means of obtaining 
the forgiveness of a <J faithful and just" God; but this 
should be accompanied with a desire and endeavour to 
" cleanse ourselves" from them. The desire of bodily 
cleanliness arises from that of recommending ourselves to 
our fellow-creatures; how much more then should the 
desire of recommending ourselves to God make us wish 
for mental cleanliness ! While we have a spot upon us, 
we must he sensible of it; can we not wash it out? If 
ashamed to appear before men, must we not be ashamed 
to appear before our Maker ? and can we hide this shame 
by endeavouring to forget that He is within us? If we 
are to " work our way to salvation" (and some work our 
minds will -force -us to) we -cannot safely sit idle, much 



409 



less direct our endeavours to improper objects, which 
we must do if we do not direct them to proper ones, 
for idle entirely we cannot sit. The beginning of those 
endeavours is in the desire of obtaining the object of 
them, which, if sincere, God will improve into active 
efforts, for this desire, like the " dirus hydrops," but 
very opposite in its effects, " crescit indulgens sibi." 



DCCCCLXXX1V. 

Pride is often owing to a false calculation of the 
means of recommending; ourselves to others. 



DCCCCLXXXV. 

Men are on their guard against each other, because 
they are apt to take improper liberties ; women are 
more free with each other, because their natural timidity 
and delicacy restrain them from doing so. With men, 
almost every idea may have an indecent association ; 
with women no such ideas occur, or if they do, they 
are immediately suppressed.* If they are so in men, it 

* It will be easily perceived that this alludes to women who do not 
disgrace their sex. 

3 G 



410 



must be from a higher regard than what their habits 
or even their education, exposed as they are to ill 
examples, would secure in them. The Turks undervalue 
women, because they know not how to do them justice 
in the comparison, and by so doing they sink themselves 
into mere sensualists : if we did so, we should want the 
best softeners of our own rugged nature, the greatest 
excitements to the manly character, and the nearest 
assimilation that we can make to that of an angel : 
when its purity is soiled, it is generally the hand of man 
that does it. 



DCCCCLXXXV1. 

Men of very elevated minds seem to float between 
earth and heaven, like the suspension of Mahomet's 
tomb (which we may conclude every " Hadgi" has 
seen) between two loadstones, with this difference, 
that the first is an affair of the imagination, the second, 
if we may believe the Turks, a matter of fact. What 
difference a full stomach, so favorable to animal courage, 
may make, is hard to say, but we must suppose it 
has the effect " affigere hunio," till the " divinge parti- 
cula aurae" is again released by the mechanical process 
of digestion. Fuseli indeed is said to have stuffed him- 
self (though probably not to repletion) with high meats, 
to excite his pictorial powers during sleep, but I 
should think it would only make him dream of the 
Devil, or produce his earthly similitude the Night 



411 



Mare, as indeed we may judge from the monstrous 
extravagance of Fuseli's figures. For my part, humble 
aspirant as I am, I should rather fear the depression, 
than expect the elevation of my dilucular suggestions 
by following Mr. Fuseli's practice, especially as the 
head ach is known to be the usual concomitant of an 
overloaded stomach. As to the conveyance of absolute 
knowledge, it seems of little moment what regimen 
we follow during life, if according to Pope, 

11 Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die ;" 

which is a happy equalisation of characters, and very 
consolatory to the recollection of a mis-spent life, though 
a little contradictory to the instances he gives (especially 
" Heliuo's") of the continuance of the ruling passions 
till our dissolution. Perhaps the poet's mind, like the 
suspension of Mahomet's tomb, might have an oscillation 
between earth and heaven, which in its glancings "might 
beget many heterogeneous associations, equally consistent 
with heated imaginations and impeded digestions : hetero- 
geneous in the latter sense they must be, for the u idea 
of a crowd" (as Archdeacon Paley humorously called 
it at college) upon a table, would hardly produce 
crowded ideas in its deglutitious realizations, or at 
least would interfere with their arrangements upon 
paper. Those who wish to avoid the inconveniences 
above mentioned, must at least have recourse to the 
expedient of occasional abstinence, to preserve them 
from the ill consequences of the excessive indulgence of a 
good appetite, and to give them the possession of 
" Mens sana in corpore sano." 



412 



DCCCCLXXXVII. 

When we say of another, that he is a superior 
Man, we probably meau, that his ideas are superior 
to those which our minds suggest to us : but how 
much of this imagined superiority may depend on habit, 
or even on accident, we cannot say. 



DCCCCLXXXVIII. 

The powers given to the different orders of animals 
in the creation, may be estimated by the final causes 
visible in them, and again those final causes may 
be judged of by the nature and magnitude of those 
powers ; reasoning in such a circle must surely be founded 
in truth. 



DCCCCLXXXIX. 

Is it the pride of mankind that makes them over- 
look common sense in their reasonings ? or do they 
see it merely through the medium of the former ? 
Ambition is apt to lose sight of what gave it its 
first impulse. 



413 



DCCCCXC. 

Can a proud man be a sensible one ? 

DCCCCXCI. 

Many men are imperfectly, none perhaps are 
thoroughly, known to their fellow creatures; all are 
known to God : how surely then will the judgment he 
performs be different from that of any earthly tribunal. 



DCCCCXCII. 

It is an unfortunate circumstance, that many who 
have given proofs of their public spirit, have be- 
trayed a less worthy motive for it, in getting them- 
selves raised (if it may so called) to the Peerage. 
Is it because they think their possession of this quality 
a meritorious service done to their country, which 
deserves to be so rewarded ? If so, every man who 
posesses it ought to be made a Peer, and where then are 
we to look for the standard of honesty in independence ? 
If a man is engaged in public life, and has talents for 
it, he may firid some reason for chusing a seat in 



4U 



one house rather than the other, if he takes care to 
occupy it afterwards ; but if he confines himself to 
private life, I cannot see why he should be made a 
Peer, unless he thinks he cannot be a gentleman 
without it. But the fact is, that those who obtain 
this elevation, are generally possessed of large fortunes, 
(as they must have something more than their own 
worth to support it) and we must then consider this 
puerile vanity as one of the " Mala," of which wealth 
is an " irritamentum."* 



DCCCCXCIII. 

It is greatly to be lamented, that any instances 
should occur in this country of the commission of a 
crime of the worst kind, and the most disgraceful to 
human nature. Notwithstanding the detestation with 
which it is justly regarded, every well-wisher to society 
must be anxiousf that this detestation may be kept up, 
and that those who have thus blasted all their prospects 
in this world, may be left to make their peace as well 
as they can with the next. 

* I hope the reader will not consider this as meant to depreciate 
the house of Peers itself, but ratuer the' contrary. In my estimation 
of the members of which it ought to be composed, an hereditary 
Peer, or one who has earned that elevation, may very well be an 
honest independent man, and iu every sense a Gentleman. 

f An anxiety which every fresh instance of the commission of this 
crime must keep alive. 



415 



DCCCCXC1V. 

It is a dangerous or rather desperate state of manners 
(may it never be ours !) when the prevalence of vice pre- 
vents the effect of any censure of it; such a " defendit 
Humerus" is terrible indeed ! In our country we may 
find much encouragement in the efforts to plead the 
cause of good morals which the press is continually 
pouring forth, and in its endeavours to direct our views 
to better objects ; we cannot suppose that a merciful 
Providence has allowed those merely to shew their 
inefficacy : let us therefore hope that the advocates of 
virtue will finally triumph over the enemies which they 
have to encounter. 



DCCCCXCV. 

We need not expect to hear or see any audible 
or visible signs of the favor of Providence to virtue 
or of its hatred of vice, we have only to attend to the 
*' still small voice" within ourselves. 



DCCCCXCVT. 

Domestic felicity cannot well be the lot of Princes, 
as their own inclinations are seldom if ever consulted 



416 

in the choice of their partners ; and even the political 
considerations (sometimes accompanied with those of 
relative connexion) which direct that choice, are often 
unaccompanied with those enquiries which subsequent 
events prove to have been necessary to justify the 
choice, and to ensure the national benefit which was, 
or should have been, intended by it. An exception to 
the circumstance first mentioned has occurred in the 
instance of our late Sovereign ; an exception as rare 
perhaps as the goodness of his character (which after 
all is the best greatness) was pre-eminent among those 
of his, or indeed of any rank. In some respects the 
influence of his example has survived the grave. 



DCCCCXCV1I. 

Epicurism is not to be judged of by the single 
circumstance of its making pleasure the great end of 
our views in life, but by the means it proposes to ar- 
rive at that end ; true it is, that it considers the 
practice of virtue (or at least the avoidance of vice) 
as necessary for this, (and therefore the admirers of 
Epicurism give it credit for being founded in truth,) 
but it separates our views from all regard to the agency 
of God, as exercised towards man ; it excites neither 
love nor fear of Him ; and it narrows all our interest 
and regards to those of this present life, at the same 
time flattering our vanity and our indolence by the powers 



417 



it supposes in us of answering those interests and regards : 
it leaves the action of only one quality to a creature 
who is composed of many. Epicurus committed a 
capital error in his system ; he forgot that the desire of 
pleasing God is essential to the enjoyment of pleasure by 
his rational creatures, as their reliance on his mercy 
is to the alleviation of pain ; neither of which dan take 
place, if he has no regard to man. 

Those who admire Epicurism in theory, 1 think must 
find themselves a little disappointed with it in practice* 



DCCCCXCVIIT. 

In a popular old song,* there are these two lines, being 
the "eloge funebre" which the Author wished to be made 
upon him after his decease, 

" In the morning when sober, in the evening when mellow, 
" He's gone, and has not left behind him his fellow." 

This is not very unlike the sentiment of Mrs. Diana 
Trapes, in her song in the Beggar's Opera, 

" The life of all mortals in kissing should pass, 
" Lip to lip while we're young, then the lip to the glass." 
Such are the aspirations, or inspirations if you will, 
which Epicurism offers to its votaries. — But these were 
not the virtuous enjoyments of Epicurus.— No, but are they 

' Beginning with 

" If Hive to grow old, for I find I godown 4 '' 

3 H 



418 



not the probable consequences of making Pleasure the great 
objec of life ? Voluptatem sequi will not always be 
" vitium fugere." Akenside indeed says, 

" O pleasure ! we blaspheme not thee, 

" Nor emulate the rigid knee 

" Which bends but at the stoic throne." 

But in this he means to blame both the extremes. 

Epicurus's error seems to have been in wishing to direct 
instead of counteracting, our impulses: but if there is evil 
in the heart of man, must it not be counteracted? And it 
will, — for alas ! the " priest of pleasure" cannot absolve us 
from the penance of pain.* 



DCCCCXCIX. 

I know not whether a severer critic might altogether 
approve of the mixture of imagination with the semblance 
of truth which there is in the tale or union of u the Cave of 
the Enchantress," by the fascinating author of " Gaieties 



* The reader will not suppose that I mean to put these enjoyments (of 
" kissing" and u mellowing") on a par ; but he will allow (hat there is some- 
thing of the spirit of Epicurism in both. Epicurus himself indeed was not a 
debauchi, but his followers may be so, for verbal restrictions and explana- 
tions are no s curity against the excesses to which a system opens the 
door: the observance of those preventives will depend much on the dis- 
cretion of the individuals, in many of whom the spirit will be toostong 
for the letter. 



419 



and Gravites." Admire however we must, and as any cen- 
sure might endanger our being suspected of envy, we will 
only admire and be silent. I cannot however help break- 
ing this silence (as mental struggles are apt to be loqua- 
cious) by the expression of some fear, lest 1 should be put 
under the painful alternative .of mixing my admiration with 
censure, (excessive as perhaps is the display of his creative, or 
at least combinative powers,) or of confessing my inability 
to admire without any such alloy ; admire however I repeat 
that we must at any rate, and we may reserve our frui- 
tion for the moments when our spirits and our attentions 
are equal to it; for even in relaxation we may make 
•*' a toil of a pleasure/' unless we follow the bent of our 
humours, 



M. 



We may sometimes impute want of feeling to persons 
whose feelings we cannot bring forth, not knowing how 
to address ourselves to them ; as an unskilful player cannot 
bring harmonious sounds out of an instrument the most 
capable of producing them. Harmony or discord may, 
as Shakespeare makes Hamlet observe, be brought out 
of the same instrument ; those only can produce har- 
mony who are capable of feeling it, and of " governing 
the ventages ;" a man of feeling and talent can no more 
be expected to display them before those who cannot do 
them justice, than he can be to fi cast pearls before 



420 



swine ;" if he did, instead of admiration and sympathy, 
he would only perhaps excite stupid astonishment, or what 
is worse, envy and malignant passions. 



MI. 

The pride of this world is apt, in various ways, to make 
men lose sight of the common interest which they have in 
the other. 



Mil. 

"What is more delightful than the calm expanse of a 
summer sky, with the general enjoyment of it in which we 
participate with all around us, while the mind is left to 
the full employment of it its own powers, and the sensa- 
tions which the aspect of nature so strongly excites ? Is 
not this an anticipation of a future state? 



Mill. 

I believe the materialists have overlooked an argument 
greatly in their favor, in the dispute concerning matter 
and spirit, as their chief object is to exclude the existence, 
in order to destroy the importance of the latter, which in- 
deed is no longer necessary, for even admitting the existence 
of spirit, to the entire exclusion of matter, the question 
itself is of po consequence, for where there is no matter, 






421 



there can be nothing material. . This will set the minds of 
the Anti-spiritualists perfectly at ease, and it will afford a 
noble, indeed a boundless field for Scepticism to range in, 
though I fear with little chance of finding game; for do 
away matter and spirit (" time and space" perhaps need 
not be " annihilated") and nothing remains (unless indeed 
we embody that nothing, and give it wings, &c.) for us to 
doubt of : still however, I am puzzled how to reconcile 
this " vacuum" with the " plenum" that universal doubt- 
fulness must necessarily create ; " chaos" must " come 
again," to settle the matter.* 



MXV. 

The numerous aud indiscriminate society of the 
present day is very adverse to real demonstrations of 
friendship, for it cannot be expected that where there 
is a total want of congeniality, there should be any 
sympathy, it is only by selecting our friends that 
we can hope to give or receive sincere offers of 
friendship ; unless when a superior feeling of christian 
charity supersedes all others, and friends and enemies 
are alike comprehended in the same general extension 
of love; and even then, it is more a love of duty than 
of inclination, that can give no utterance to the lips, 
and perhaps but an imperfect feeling to the heart i 
the. love of our enemies, and even of those, who are 

* This "flight of fancy" too requires an apology. 



422 



indifferent to us, is best shewn in occasional demon- 
strations of good will, and constant repression of all 
malevolence. 



MV. 

As man was made in the image of his Creator, so 
all the human dispositions and feelings (I mean those 
of sentiment) approach to the divine : to be convinced 
of this, we need only attend to the effect that music 
has upon us, especially serious, and above all, sacred 
music ; indeed in all the arts, the effect, to please, 
must be on the mind, through the medium of the 
senses ; and do not we say, that there is mind, or 
sentiment, in such a piece of music or painting ; or, 
what is peculiarly addressed to it, poetry ; and even 
this may often be more addressed to the ear, than 
to the mind ; or if to the latter, to the lighter qualities 
of it. In all the arts, in nature herself, harmony is 
most required, and also is more peculiarly adapted to 
musical sounds ; it has the strongest effect upon our 
feelings, it is expressed by the organ that also ex- 
presses all our affections, it is alluded to in the strongest 
manner when we speak of the praise and adoration 
addressed to God himself ; it is the mode in which 
the coming of the great day of judgment is to be 
announced ; and the existence and agency of beings 
most remote from matter is expressed by a term (spirit) 
that implies an action that can only be perceived by 
us in its effect upon material substances, as leaves, &c. 



423 



because our senses are yet too gross to be affected by 
itself in the abstract (an abstract which, perhaps may 
as well be made of it, as of spirit from matter :) as 
Shakespeare says, 

" While this muddy vesture of decay 
" Doth close us in, we cannot hear it." 



MVI. 

Our opinions on abstruse subjects, particularly re- 
ligion, seem to be so influenced by the peculiar 
propensities of our minds, that it is impossible for us to 
examine and compare them accurately at the bar of 
reason, unless we knew more of the theory of the 
huinau mind than it is possible for us to do. Perhaps 
I should say that the knowledge required is that of 
the subject itself ; but arguments may satisfy one man, at 
least by his own profession, which will not. fully 
satisfy another who may be equally disposed to wish 
and believe in the truth of Christianity : whence then 
arises this difference? If the satisfied man gives 
reason for his satisfaction we can examine them 
(provided they are intelligible) and judge whether 
they are sufficient or not ; but if he professes to 
have received new lights, &c. how are we to under- 
stand him ? Is it not rather an acknowledgment that 
his reason has not power to give him that satisfaction 
that he professes to receive from these new sources ? 
And how can he explain these ? How can he prove 



424 



that we ought to receive them as well as him ? Ot 
how can he establish his better claim to them ? 
Reason he cannot appeal to for his justification, for 
he has appealed to a higher power, and has disclaimed 
that faculty which alone, humanly speaking, can enable 
him to judge of the satisfaction he professes to have 
received ; that faculty to which our Saviour himself 
appealed for the reception of his doctrines. It seems 
to result from all this, that we can only judge for 
ourselves, imperfect as that judgment must be, and 
also, that we should not adduce any arguments in 
favor of our own opinion, that are more likely to 
alienate than to gain over the opinions of those to 
whom we address them ; that we should confine 
ourselves to those that are likely to gain over the 
greatest number, if we can calculate upon this ; and 
above all, that we should be in charity with those who 
may differ from us. 



MV1I. 



It appears to me, that the chief means we have in 
maintaining ourselves in the belief of truth, is by 
keeping up a continual warfare with falsehood ; so 
that the mind can never be thoroughly at rest (which 
indeed is incompatible with progressive enquiry ;) if 
it was, it would sink into indifference, or something 
worse. 



"25 



MVII1. 

It must be acknowledged, that the Greek and Latin names 
of the objects of natural history, give a dignity to them, 
independent of any display of erudition, that prevents their 
being confounded with the subjects of familiar discourse, 
and places them in a kind of mental repository, where they 
have an effect correspondent to what they exhibit on the 
shelves of a Museum. It seems that nature, in dispers- 
ing them over her vast field, has given to each class of 
them its separate and connecting qualities, subdivided 
again into specific distinctions, that the human mind might 
arrange them accordingly, and agreeably to what its own 
constitution requires, in the association of ideas, which it is 
so prone to form. What a theme would this be for 
the Author of " Gaieties and Gravities" to indulge his 
spoitive vein upon ! 



MIX. 

The deifications of Pagan Mythology seem at first to 
have arisen from simple feelings and ideas, suggested by as 
simple facts : as these became multiplied and diversified, 
they were embodied (for men had not yet learned to ab- 
stract) in forms such as the objects of them were on earth. 
Hence the mixture of qualities in Jupiter, Apollo, &c ; 
so Olympus and Parnassus are localised in the mountains 

3 I 



426 



of the country, where those personifications were made. 
I am obliged for this suggestion to the author of the book 
I have in myhand^ with the playful and excursive vagaries 
of whose "Gaieties and Gravities," I can no more compare 
my own sober and plodding " Ideas and Realities," than 
the circular trotter of a riding-house can be matched with 
a New- Market racer, or a Leicestershire hunter. 



MX. 

I shall express a trite sentiment, but a real feeling, 
when I say that the more we exercise our own minds, 
and in a right pursuit, the greater satisfaction we shall 
enjoy, with the greater ability to endure changes and 
reverses. The best mental repose is in mental occupation, 
for total desceuvrement is impossible.* 



MXI. 

Perfect satisfaction cannot be attained in this life; an 
unsatisfied mind is of course in a state of solicitude ; a 
satisfied one (especially if it is so from self-persuasion) 
may, and will if it reflects, have that satisfaction clouded 
by the appreheusion that it has been purchased at too 
easy a rate. We should then be cautious in forming our 
conclusions. 

* At least for any time, and to minds that are capable of action. 



427 



MX11. 

Pope's and Young's descriptions of Hope, as pre- 
venting our enjoyments of any present blessings,* and as 
being " the assassin of our joys," as " treading them 
under foot," and being " scarce a milder tyrant than 
despair," may be exaggerated, but as it is the nature of 
hope to impel us to look forward to a continuance and 
increase of our present enjoyment, it necessarily implies 
a dissatisfaction, or at least an imperfect satisfaction 
with them. That continuance and increase are both, un- 
certain, and therefore hope itself is an insufficient sup- 
plier of the defects of enjoyment, and " turns us over to 
death," for that " ease" which we so often sigh for. 
Does it not necessarily require a reliance on some power 
who can insure them to us ? And is not even that reli- 
ance in some degree weakened by the sense of our own 
unworthiness ? All these defects may be partly sup- 
plied by that buoyancy of animal spirits, that, like the 
effervescence of Champagne, supplies the want of body, of 
" heart and substance" (much better given by religious 
meditations) and balances at least, if it does not exclude 
that sensibility! which makes us " turn at the touch of joy 
or woe, but turning tremble .too ;" that sensibility with 

* "Man never is, but always to be blest/' — Essay on Mam 

t Sympathy and compassion, the accompaniments of sensibility, are the 
literal expressions of suffering ; what then were the feelings which Milton 
ascribes to the Angels, and which " mixed with pity, violated not their 
bliss? ' 



428 



which I have just been contemplating the gleams of a 
rising sun through the grey clouds of a summer's morning, 
with a pleasure unalloyed even by the sight of the game- 
keeper returning with his gun in his hand from the slaughter 
of a deer ; a sight which, with its associations, would 
perhaps have suggested to the facetious author of " Gaities 
and Gravities" a further increase of pleasure and alle- 
viation of pain, in the enjoyments which the " Memoirs 
of a haunch of Venison" would enarrate ;* for, used in 
moderation, and accompanied with social communication, 
heightened too by the " rich ichor, the generous blood of 
Bacchus" (though I must confess I like beer better) the 
enjoyments of sense are themselves an auxiliary to those of 
the mind; but let us guard against their excess. 



jvixnr. 

I would suggest to the ingenious punster whom I have 
been reading, that the superiority of short candles over 
long in giving light, is clearly demonstrated by the neces- 
sary double application of the term " candle's ends ;" 
though indeed in preferring them, we should have the 
pleasure of " burning a candle at both ends."f The same 
view of things will prove that we live here to no purpose ; 
for what but nothing can the world's end be ? unless in- 



* See " Gaieties and Gravities." 

t The farrago of this flight of fancy may perhaps be excused as the 
suggestion of a moment when sleep with its attendant dreams, was hardly 
shaken off. 



429 

deed tbere is no vacuum. -Happy too will it be for the 
men of this world, if Life is not the " means," but the " end;" 
we may then burn both the Bible and Young's Night 
Thoughts, for where is the use of reading them back- 
wards, as the Magicians did by the Lord's prayer, when 
they invoked the Devil?* 



MX1V. 



The policy and the interest of this world, will some- 
times induce people to exhibit the appearance and even the 
substance of virtues, that ought to be suggested by higher 
and better motives. This must be what Shakespeare 
means by " assume a virtue, if you have it not." Thus 
the " charity which begins at home" supplies the place of 
that which <e stirs abroad :*' a good example is set or at 
least imitated, and virtue gains followers, if not adhe- 
rents ; can this be " cutting her throat," hypocritical as 
such " homage" may be ? Can we cut virtue's throat 
while we are holding up her train ? 



MXV. 

Some people pay their debts to mankind by running in 
debt to the Devil. (Thanks again to the author of 
" Gaieties and Gravities.") The " Friars" way of getting 
rid of Satan by acknowledging his debt to him, was 

* See " Gaieties and Gravities/' 
The vagaries of this Work are very seductive ; whither will they lead us ? 



430 



Indeed an ingenious one :* what would the " Prince of 
darkness" have done, if neither his debtors nor his pay- 
masters, were " troubled" by him ? But would it not be 
better still, if we cculd make him debtor to us ? So in- 
deed he is, if we do his work ; and we need not doubt of 
his repayment — in another world : he will give us " aurum 
potabile," there, we shall be auro " satiati, quod semper 
cupivimus." We shall gain a further advantage, if both 
the cause and effect of our evil actions are to be attributed to 
one agent, as in the case of " Bias and the Bowls," and 
" Eusebius and the Spectacles ;" for it will relieve us of 
all the guilt, by throwing it on Satan, who will then 
have four shoulders to bear it, and will indeed be- 
come the * Diable a quatre:" but in that case, how 
shall we have earned his aurum potabile ? 



MXVI. 

Some people multiply words faster than ideas : society 
multiplies ideas faster than words ; for how many ideas 
are often expressed in one word? 



MXVI1. 

It would be well if pride (whatever idea it is to convey) 
always " saved us from falling:" for it generally prevents 

• Sec" Gaieties and Gravities." 



431 



us from rising again, by making us ashamed of penitence, 
by which alone we can rise when fallen. Pride in fact 
kuocks us down and keeps us there. 



MXVJII. 

VVhen we lose a promising child, we feel all the grief 
that the loss of present enjoyment, and future hope can 
give, but we should ask ourselves whether we could have 
seen the object of it in a light that could throw a greater 
brightness over those hopes, or that could have done more 
than shew an approach towards that perfection in another 
state, for which this earthly school, in its best and latest 
ages, is but a preparation ; a state in which that hope, or 
rather the fulfillment of it, will be mixed with no fears of 
uncertain duration, or future disappointment. If he has 
shewn any qualities superior to his age, what were they but 
anticipations of that prime of life, that maturity of improve- 
ment, from which the transition might have been made with- 
out any intermediate decay ; and how much greater will 
the joy of our recovery of him be hereafter, than any we can 
feel in recovering a favorite whom we have lost for a shorfe 
time here ; and what a certitude of this does our reliance on 
the justice and goodness of our Creator, and on his fidelity 
to the promises he has made, present to us. 



MX1X. 

Par from quarrelling with ourselves for being swayed 
by motives of interest, we ought to be thankful to our 



432 



Creator for having so closely connected our interest with 
our duty; the more we attend to the latter, the more we 
shall consult the former, the more we shall gain the 
esteem and confidence of our fellow-creatures; and 
if we also deserve their love by our amiable qualities, 
we shall be incited to a return of that love, which will lead 
us to the love of Him, whose demand of it is equal to what 
he bears to his creatures, and what he has shewn and 
declared through Him who gave his life in demon- 
stration of it. 



MXX. 

There are three kinds of writings, the insipid, the 
affected, and the decisive ; the insipid is when the stile 
and expression are weakened and perplexed, with little 
meauing and less decision ; the affected, when a con- 
ceited arrogance is covered by a pretended modesty, with a 
pompous diction and often a studied obscurity, and when 
a fancied knowledge is substituted for real ignorance ; 
the decisive, when a well grounded confidence is shewn, 
not so much in the writer's own power, as in a thorough 
conviction of the truth of what is asserted, and clearly 
explained. If he appears to lay down the law, he 
does it from a certitude of its being founded injustice; 
if he advances an opinion, it is with a modest appeal 
to the unperverted, unsophisticated sense and feelings of 
mankind, whether he addresses himself to his reader's feel- 
ings, reason, or imagination, whether he has a "Chilvers," 



433 



a "Clinch," or a " Harrison" to describe, ora "new Royal 
Literary Society" to address,* &c. he is equally clea r 
impressive, amusing and appropriate. 



MXXI. 

Query (quoerere enini licet, si locus hie est desipere) 
is the incolastic derivative (as Dr. Johnson, or the Author 
of " Gaieties and Gravities" might call it) from Iberia 
(Spain), Iber, or Iberus? The similar, and similarly ap- 
plied term Ligur, may be a grammatico-legal precedent 
(such as Scaliger himself might allow) for the curtifaction 
(I prefer this word to curtailment, as every cur has not 
a short tail) of the other; and there is an additional 
sanction for it, in the affinity, what the Ligurians and 
Iberians bear to each other, in being " animis elati 
superbis." This question I respectfully submit to the 
" New Royal Literary Society." 



MXX1L 

Ingenuity or erudition (which some cavillers call 
pedantry) will sometimes be a substitute for accuracy 
of judgment and correctness of taste, in the alterations 
proposed by critics, whether variorum or not. f The 

* See Gaieties and Gravities, vol. iii. 
t It is to be observed, that those critics are doubly entitled to 
their literary fame, with a literal addition to it, as they deal so much 
in letters. 

3K 



434 



Right Reverend Commentator on Shakespeare, might 
claim one or both of these merits, though it is to be feared, 
that the author of the " Canons of Criticism," would enter 
a formidable protest against allowing him any other merit 
than that of a conceited and dogmatical pedant.* 



MXX1II, 

Making the heads of an intended composition the 
mems* of it, is something like a member of parliament 
putting bis beads in his hat while he speaks, in which case, 
perhaps, it may be doubted, whether the heads in the hat, 
or that out of it are the fullest or emptiest of matter. Could 
the nucleus of this capital integument be dissected, as 
Prior's Alma proposes, it would afford a migbty assistance 
to the science of Craniology, whicb might then be ablelo 
trace the bumps (organs I mean) to their sources, and to see 
in its utmost state of compression or incipient evolution, the 
passion whose powerful and sometimes uncompressible 
expansion produces such beneficial or maleficial effects 
upon its owner, or on those who are within its influence. 
This might also enable the followers of craniology to 
become masters of the composition of the various passions, 
and to make factitious ones, which every individual might 
carry in his pocket, like detonating powder, and thus 
would possess the means of being master of himself and 
his impulses. What new System of Ethics this would give 
occasion for, I leave to the professors of moral philosophy 
to determine. 

* Be this however said with due deference to the Author of M Th e 
Divine Legation- of Moses." 



435 



MXX1V, 



One of the great requisites in singing or saying, seems 
to be a good intonation, which includes or rather implies 
expression, and necessitates articulation, without which* 
singing (excepting the beauties which peculiarly belong to 
melody, and certain affinities between sound and sense, 
and also, the various giochi di gola) would be little better 
than an Irish howl, which indeed has also its peculiar ex- 
pression (honos erit huic quoque) heightened by the sea- 
soning of the brogue. 



MXXV. 

Melody seems now to be little more regarded than as a 
means of shewing off the voice, by gracing and running divi- 
sions, with chromatic turns and forced inflexions, and a 
drawling and affected kind of expression to please the 
high and low vulgar ; making sudden, and we may suppose 
agreeably surprising bursts and transitions from piano to 
forte, and vice versa; in all which, articulation is lost 
(which indeed may save the trouble of " suiting the words 
to the music well'') and often time too, for it gives a kind 
of ad libitum to the singer, thereby preventing the imper- 
tinent interference of instrumental accompaniments, &c. 
Much the same may be said of instrumental execution^ 
excepting that the voice is not the leader \ and indeed it 
is hard to say in which of the Arts (for sisters may cor« 



436 



rupt one another) the present style is the more vitiated and 
meretricious. Even Handel's music is made subservient 
to it, and is treated as the Lady in the Spectator, (No. 226) 
treated the psalms in a country church, to the utter asto- 
nishment and confusion of the congregation. This however 
is counteracted by a few returns to nature, simplicity and 
truth. 



MXXV1. 

How much more is required to beget confidence be- 
tween people of the higher ranks of society, than those of 
the lower ! The first are made nicer by their mental ac- 
quirements and their pride of rank, and have more to lose* 
both in their credit and their worldly interests. Simple 
honesty is the only recommendation required by the lower 
ranks. Even here then we see how different are the ob- 
jects of the two worlds, how inferior one is to the other, 
and how much more man, worldly man, requires than his 
Maker. Man indeed knows that " where much is given, 
much only is required ;" but he does not seem to think, 
that where " little is given," that little is worth requiring: 
he values only the " much" that he mistakenly considers 
as such ; nay, he sometimes requires much where little 
has been given.* If he accepts the " widow's mite," it is 
because he has the example presented to him, to make 
do what his own nature would not have suggested to him ; 

* My own insufficient attention to this cauiiun I can only excuse by 
the difficulty there sometimes is of distinguishing between want of ability 
and want of exertion. To the latter however, the parable of the " Mote 
and the B«am" may be applied. 



437 



so powerful is the Mammon of this world, and so much 
stronger are our passions than our reason. 



MXXVI1. 

O autumn, is not thy temperature given purposely 
to tell the feeling mind what it may expect, and what 
is better told, from the highest Authority, that it has 
to expect. 

The calm of Autumn is a holy calm, 
That, like itself, breathes peace into the soul ; 
And, as it breathes, gives the foretaste of heaven. 
The voice of Nature is the voice of God, 
That " speaks in things still louder than in words," 
And speaks to every sense ; nor less we feel 
Its animating power, with icy touch 
When Age has laid his chilling, withering hand, 
On all but on the mind ; this springs aloft 
With high desires and ardent hopes inflamed, 

And wonders at the body's slow decay. 

Sept. 1826. 



MXXVIII. 

Perhaps it is not one of the least miracles of our na- 
ture, that with the powers and the ambitious desires of our 
minds, we do not work ourselves into a kind of frenzy, in 
contemplating the innumerable stars that illuminate the 
vault over our heads, and in fact all around us, to we 



438 



know not what extent. If this astonishing exhibition was 
carried still farther, the fable of Jupiter and Seraele would 
probably be realized, in the effect it would have upon us. 
But while we are permitted safely and humbly to wonder 
and adore, how are we to conceive the future enjoyments, 
of which our present are but an anticipation ? Every 
building that we raise, religious ones particularly, is a 
sort of Tower of Babel, pointing upwards to that region 
to which our minds aspire, and to which our astronomical 
observations carry them. The humble cottage on the 
contrary, is an emblem of the unambitious adoration that 
we pay to the exalted Power who rules over us. As Se- 
mele raised her desires too high, so may the astronomer, 
borne aloft by his deistical aspirations, lose sight of <4 the 
High Priest," who has "entered into the holy place," and 
whose mediating arm alone can enable us to ascend 
whither he has gone before us. 



MXXIX. 

Reason cannot reach to the intelligence of a future 
state, but ii may to the expectation of it ; the deficiency 
then must be made up, as far as it can, by feeling : and 
how well does this justify the reproach of our being " slow 
in heart to believe!" In how many shapes will this most 
interesting of all truths offer itself to our minds ! 

Reason can chuse between two propositions, and can 
see what would be the result of her rejecting either of 
them; but here she stops; she cannot perceive the full 



439 



force of that which she adopts, unless it is impressed 
on the feelings ; what she has not power to reach, is to 
her almost as if it did not exist; any proof she can have 
of it, must only be in her taking the negative side of the 
question, in the consequences that would follow her adop- 
tion of the opposite proposition ; this however leaves room 
for her judging of the comprehensible evidence which 
urges her reception of truths that she cannot comprehend. 



MXXX. 

1 should look upon it as one of the greatest pro- 
fanations of Heaven's best gifts to man, if I could 
believe that the Author of " Gaieties and Gravities' 7 
has not really the feelings which he so pathetically 
describes in his story of " the old white hat and old 
grey mare," &c, with the proper accompaniments of 
those feelings ; but it is impossible ; he must have 
them, in spite of any cold or sceptical philosophy, or 
thoughtless though ingenious and amusing levity ; he 
must have them, and they must influence his opinion 
and his conduct. 

His chapter upon Noses, proves I think, that we 
may fairly count his among the friends of a good cause, 
and that the rest of his senses are as sound as that which 
he has so well descanted upon. So able an advocate 
for a clear nose must have a clear head ; the feature 
itself we may presume is a well formed one, as he 
has shown so good a nose for a joke : it is probably 



440 

a medium between the long protuberance of Slawkeii* 
bergius,* and the flattened perforation on the face 
of the wife of Genghiz Khan : at any rate his head 
must be longer than his nose, and all together must 
form an excellent sun dial, and whatever hour of the 
day the gnomon points to, we may be sure to find 
him collecting materials in his common place .book 
for the future amusement and edification of his readers, 
who cannot refuse to be led by the nose by one who 
handles his pen so well ; they may therefore safely 
follow their own noses wherever he leads them, and 
can never wish to stop them at any odour which he 
may present to them, nor need he fear being addressed 
with " Ocyus exi, 

Jam gravises nobis, et soepe emungeris ; exi 

Ocyus, et propera " being certain that 

a pinch of his snuff far exceeds the '* titillating dust" 
which he dissuades us from taking. May his nose 
then be the leader of ours ; may the gnomon and 
the dial shew his nose on the Theatre of the world, 
when our un satiated appetites for instruction and amuse- 
ment excite us to make the call in which boxes, pit, 
and galleries will unanimously join. 

I cannot however leave his volumes without hoping 
to see a recantation of his " Pleasant Illusions" to 
atone for the injustice he has done to truth : I say 
injustice, for a misrepresentation of truth is a dereliction 
of it. But 1 hope he has rather deceived himself, 



* I am almost afraid to refer the reader to " Tristram Shandy" for this. 



441 



than wished to deceive his readers, and that he has 
been more inconsistent than insincere ; either however 
is reprehensible.* 



MXXXI. 

The philosopher laughs at every body but himself; 
and this his pride will not allow him to do. The old phi- 
losophers, in deference to the prejudices of mankind, 
worshipped God, not through, but in his creatures; if 
they rose higher than this in their closets, it was to wor- 
ship another creature, that of their own suggestions. 
Philosophy is the display of human knowledge ; its busi- 
siness therefore is to instruct; if, possest with the sense of 
its office, it carries its enquiries into matters on which it 
is unabie to form any certain conclusions, it either con- 
siders them as doubtful, or else it throws a shade of 
doubt over them by the unsatisfactory attempts it makes, 
with all the magisterial tone which it assumes, to account 
for them ; and its scholars also consider them as doubtful, 
resting their confidence on the master who has under- 
taken to instruct them ; if they neither did this, nor 
acquiesced in his reasonings, they would cease to consider 
him as the object of their reverence, and they would 
be thrown back upon the earlier lessons of their 
childhood ; and what else remains for those who are 



* Have I attached too much importance to " Gaieties and Gravities' 
in the beginning of this Article 1 I think not. 

3L 



442 



disappointed in their expectations of acquiring know- 
ledge? I should presume that it is upon that ground 
that we are enjoined to receive instruction " as chil- 
dren ;" for what else but humility befits the confes- 
sion of ignorance ? What right has it to form conclu- 
sions, or rather to carry those conclusions beyond what 
the common sense of mankind enables them to do ? The 
philosopher however will not submit to this, unwil- 
ling as he is to humble himself to a level with the 
lowest of his scholars, and to give up his title to a 
superiority over them ; but the common ills of life will 
force him to do it, and to have recourse to his feelings to 
seek for that knowledge which his reason could not enable 
him to attain ; who then will deny that adversity is the 
best of schools? 

" Si quid novisti rectius istis, 

Candidus imperti." 1 will not add " sinon his utere 

mecum," till my reader allows me to do so.* 



MXXXil. 

We are contiuually making involuntary confessions of 
our ignorance ; *' what do I know," " que scais-je," " che 
so Io," is ever in our mouths, but how little of it is in our 
hearts ! 



* This Article, I fear, is somewhat farraginous ; h (merer, I think it is 
inter consider anda. 



443 



MXXX1II. 



Might not a compromise be made between the Calvinist 
and the advocate for liberty, by admitting that man is 
not a free agent in the acquisition of his mental powers, 
but only in the use he makes of them ? God foresees that 
use, no doubt ; but prescience is not predestination. 



MXXXIV. 

Without the different ranks in society, there would 
not be the same incentives to courtesy and humility, 
which even our pride is made conducive to the observance 
of. This habit will induce sympathy with our fellow- 
creatures, which will supply the place of a more confiden- 
tial intercourse : thus the policy of a world becomes its 
own corrective. 

Such observations as these will perhaps appear trite 
and obvious, because they are nothing more than the 
expositions raisonnees of general practice ; but will not our 
habits, when reflected on, be converted into principles ? 



MXXXV. 

It is not so much with the reality of human passions, 
as with the mode in which they are exhibited, especially 



444 



when it is directed against ourselves, that we find fault ; 
if we make the case our own, we may find that we should 
exhibit the same, whether pride, envy, &c. though per- 
haps in another manner, and in an inferior degree. Against 
all this the only preservative is religion. 



mxxxvl 

Among the other merits of human vanity, may be 
reckoned its being a preservative from envy : for a man 
who is vain of his own accomplishments can hardly envy 
those of others : nay more, it is a friend to compassion ; 
for will not a man pity others who are not as accomplished 
as himself? Enough, if he says he pities them ; for who 
will not give him credit,* both for his mental powers and 
his feelings ! 



MXXXV1I. 

Censure, and even Calumny have their use, in inciting 
us to do all in our power to exempt ourselves from them. 



MXXXVIII. 

** Sic vos non vobis ,J may be applied to all whose 
thoughts are not wholly engrossed by self; and even the 
self- conceited Coxcomb may have the merit of giving 



• The same, no doabt, as this Article deserves for its sincerity. 



445 



amusement or admonition, in usum or in terrorem, to 
those who see him. N". B. no bad excuse for our making 
fools or sinners of ourselves : but it would be better if it 
did not revert upon us. 



MXXX1X. 

"Verbum sentienti/' may be said as well as " sapi- 
enti;" for what cannot thought do for itself ? We have 
only to put the stone in motion. 



MXL. 

"We may flatter ourselves, without being content with 
ourselves ; a smooth surface may be inviting, but not safe 
to tread upon. 



MXL1. 

Upon my word, my good friends, who dislike this de- 
sultory way of writing, your thoughts must be very do- 
mestic, or their circle very small. Is it Penelope's web 
that you are weaving, or is your mental labour like that of 
the tread-mill, or of the squirrel in its rolling cage ? 
'Tis something however, if you are " ever ascending :" but 
for my own part, I wish to get " higher," though I have 
little hope of being at the top of the tree. I shall find nuts* 
however, and crack them, if it is but for a joke. Won't 
you catch them, if I throw them to you ? 



446 



MXLII. 

How is the gloom of a winter's night cheered with the 
warmth of a fire within, and the brightness of a full moon 
without ! 

When all that nature, all that Art can bring, 
To Winter gives the comforts of the Spring ; 
And every star that shines above our heads 
On Man's enlivened heart its mildest influence sheds. 

Deer. 1826. 



MXL1I1. 



Does Horace make up for, or does he aggravate the 
hlaine that may be thrown upon him, for the indulgence of 
a nasty idea, by the strength of his representations and 
expressions ? Is 'it not a sad abuse of his " curiosa 
felicitas V 9 But are we not more angry with Juvenal than 
with him, for the very reason that we should not, viz. be- 
cause the one does it in indignation, the other in a sort of 
playfulness, " Ridendo dicere" fcedum? 

"Neclusissepudet, sed non incidere ludura," 
The gravest may, and willf smile at a witty but licentious 
idea, but they mast not dwell upon it ; for after all, it is 
slippery ground to stand upon. And as to the " incidere 

* I hope this Article will meet with no severer censure than ils levity 
deserves. Perhaps that may be sufficient to rank it inter tollenda. 

t " Si videbitur." 



447 



ludum," why, perhaps before we can do this, we may al- 
ready have made an incision in our own fingers. Who 
would handle a sharp plaything, to make a bad hand of 
it after all ? Buck-skin gloves will hardly secure us. 



MXLIV. 

If we consider the diversity of intellect to be so great 
as not to admit of any two being exactly the same, (as in 
leaves, &c.) the problem of two lines approaching one 
another and never meeting, will be true in morals, as well 
as in mathematics, and " good wits" may "jump," with- 
out jumping into the same hole. But does not this ex- 
clude some part of the essential properties of intellect, as 
the problem does of matter?* 



MXLV. 

The varying and multiplying our thoughts is a sort of 
security against a too great attachment to any one object, 
so as to make it our hobby-horse, and to excuse our ex- 
cessive pursuits of it, by our observance or avoidance of 
others ; and besides, a variety of cogitations, as they are 
more or less connected with, may also be a corrective of 
each other ; such as the love of money and the love of 
pleasure ; a little coxcomitry, and an equal share of mo- 

* Anne inter leviora, vel obscuriora 1 



448 



desty ; a hot overbearing temper, and a serious disposition ; 
with other still more important cases : in short, " insanire 



MXLVI. 

When we speak of the " Nature of things," we mean, 
or we ought to mean, as it has pleased God to constitute 
them. 



MXLVII. 

My dear good world, for so I will consider you, what 
a pleasing thing it is to converse with you in this manner! 
For 1 think I can anticipate your answers from your clo- 
sets, or your viva voce conversations with each other; and 
of course my vanity anticipates favorable ones addressed 
to me, or to my book. What an irritative this is to the 
cacoethes scribendi ! 



MXLVIII. 

It is a lamentable thing, that the follies and vanities of 
this world should retain their hold upon us, till we are 



44.9 



upon the point of quitting them for ever. It seems as if 
we could not exist iu this world without them ; but what 
shall we do with them in the next ?* 



MXLIX. 

Horace's Satire ** Hoc erat in votis, &c." may I think 
be reckoned among the 

Carmina subridens quae scripsit Horatius, in se 
Alternaque vice in chartas sua lumina vertens, 
Nee minus, " ingenti Musaruxn impulsus amore 
" Saepe caput scaberit, vivosque eroderit ungues." 



ML. 

If it was left to a man to form his own creed, (which 
would hardly then be called Faith,) he would soon be tired 
of it, because lie never could satisfy himself; he would 
wish to break the chains he had bound himself in. and give 
a full loose to his imagination, which loves to soar beyond 
its own reach ; and what is it but that, which Christianity 
imposes upon us in the doctrine of the Trinity ? f The 
simple belief of an Almighty and Inftnite Being, is indeed 



* Perhaps we may leave them as a legacy to those who come after us. 
At any rate, the sooner we get quit of these emvice, the better. 

t I mean, as being beyond the reach of our imaginations. 
3M 



450 



far beyond our comprehension, and yet, as the proposition 
itself is a simple one, and has* no other authority but the 
suggestion of our reason, we should want an object of still 
more difficult attainment (at least more apparently difficult) 
to exercise our powers upon, along with an incentive to 
our belief of it, of still higher authority than any that our 
reason cau suggest to us ; that object we find in the 
Trinity, and the authority for it in the creed that imposes 
the belief of it upon us.f If we had not that belief en- 
joined us, we should probably substitute some other (as has 
been done by unenlightened nations,) which would not only 
be difficult, but absurd, which the boldest infidel will not 
venture to say of the Trinity, however it may be above the 
reach of his comprehension ; if he does, he will narrow 
his belief of things incomprehensible, within the limits by 
which the mere evidence of his senses is bounded, and he 
will probably end in disbelieving the existence of God him- 
self, as being more than that evidence can inform him of, 
and as being the sole conclusion of his reason, exposed 
as it is to the influence of all his passions, and unassisted 
by any authority that can secure him against them. He 
has already rejected that assistance, and may soon find 
what a u broken reed'' his reason is without it. 



* Or rather, would have no other if that alone was trusted to. 

t When I argue thus in favor of a helief in the Trinity, I mean that 
it is consonant with our reason ; consonant, not with its ability to compre- 
hend the object itself, but the evidence which vouches for its truth. 
This cannot be laid of other doctrines imposed by the Church of Borne. 



451 



BILL 

Superior powers of mind have so little attraction in 
them, that they must have a cloak thrown over them, to 
prevent their being repulsive. They are like coin, which 
requires to have its standard lowered, to give it currency; 
or like a magnet, which would lose its attractive powers 
if it was not constantly covered with the baser metal which 
it attracts ; by this means it communicates some of its 
virtue to the latter. 



ML1I. 

I have ventured in defiance of the Hexairasthenic 
and Hypnoferous effects of this very synthermantic Wea- 
ther (N. B. Thermom. 78. July 8th, 1826, 1 h. P. M. Wd. 
S. S. E. Sole occulto, nubibus cumulo stratis, &c. (armed 
as I shall be for Hypnomachy with the koniartic and 
egeirogelastic powers of his wit ; I have ventured I say to 
amuse and recreate myself with the vigintinarian antici- 
pations of I hope the alethoepic and pandunamic (or panov 
ramie, if you please,)" autographs of real septuagenarianism 

* The reader may, if he pleases, add antbroporamic, or autoramiG, 
(with or without a glass,) or any other araic to which he may be amicably 
disposed. 

I know not what apology is to be made for this "vagary," utiles* it is the 
attempt to follow, pedibus titubantibus, the steps of my " gay and grave" 
leader; to put on a bold face, and say, " Nil desperandura, Teucro duce 
et auspice Teucrq." 



452 



by the very entertaining author'of " Gaieties and Gravities;" 
and I hope also that I have not tolmerically and thrasu- 
tically availed myself of the nomothetic assumptions of this 
criticratical age, in judging his work, which, eudoernonic, 
therapeutic, and pantodapical as it is, has little to fear 
from the aikistic though authekastic scuthropisms of any 
acribodicaism whatever. 



MLIH. 

We are unwilling to believe any thing that we cannot 
fully comprehend, whatever evidence there may be for the 
truth of it. Not so, says the Deist ; 1 believe in one 
God, the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth, 
and of all things visible and invisible. Very well, Mr. 
Deist; but is it Faith that has impressed this belief upon 
you ? and can you justly expect to be left to the mere sug- 
gestions and conclusions of your reason? what would 
that have informed you of, if other information had not 
been given you? and with what has that information been 
accompanied? But you would pick and chuse for yourself : 
and so you may, and ought, if you make a fair use of your 
reason in the choice : but take care that you follow no 
other guide, even in the satisfaction that you may feel in 
your own conclusions : Ty<oQi ^cavrov. 



MLIV. 

Some people, estimating religion by the moral obser- 
vances of its professors, rather than by its own inculcation 



453 



of them, fancy that they see a superiority in the Mahome- 
tan, or even in the Hindoo, to the Christian ; but they 
forget, that on this ground, as well as on all others, the 
latter is far superior; for in what religion is morality so 
well inculcated, however little it may be observed, as in 
the Christian ? * 



MLV. 

The forms of some of the Constellations, particularly of 
Orion, and the tail of the great Bear, the Pleiades, and 
perhaps the Galaxy, &c. are so remarkable, that one can 
hardly help supposing that they are relative to the ob- 
servation of man, and their effects upon him. f The ob- 
jects of the Earth which he inhabits seem more decidedly 
so; if the former may have that application to him given 
them, it must probably be in common with the rest of the 
sentient beings in the Universe. 

July 9th. 1826. 

■ — " jamque tenebat 



Nox medium caeli spatium. 5 



* And will these " estimators" require a miraculous enforcement of 
practice, to give authority to the inculcation of it ? Let them judge by 
the voluntary performance of its precepts. 

t What regards the planets, I think progressively leads to this 
supposition, as well as to the conclusion that the science of Astronomy is 
universal. Other ideas might be suggested respecting the progress of it* 
&.c, but the imagination must not take too great a range. 



454 



MLVI. 

How often does the awe that we " stand in" of each 
other, supply the place of that better awe that we ought to 
have of ourselves and our Creator ! As to the latter, we 
seem to imagine, that want of thought is want of (i. e. 
exempts us from) responsibility. But all our " commu- 
nings" with each other in this life, are of little value, if 
they have not a reference, directly or indirectly, to the 
life to come. 



MLVII. 

Our estimation of what is due to ourselves, sometimes 
makes us overlook, or at least undervalue, what is due to 
others. This is the " charity," that not only begins at 
home, but " seldom stirs abroad." 



MLV1IL 

Mr. Such-a-one has never been married. — Yes, but he 
has though. He has been married, or at least wedded, 
all his life, to his own humours ; and they have made as 
great a slave of him, as any wife could. 



455 



MUX. 

Want of candour seems to be allowed to mankind, 
when it is necessary to pass a severe sentence, in order to 
deter others from committing the same fault. 



MLX. 

Our self-love induces us to recommend ourselves to so- 
ciety, and the means we take of doing it may be considered 
as a compliment paid to the self-love of others; thus an 
exchange is made, which in a degree at least, produces 
the same effects that a pure " good will towards men" 
would : but I am afraid that these effects are not always 
shewn in our remarks upon others: what is the remedy for 
this? Self distrust, which indeed is the genuine offspring 
of self-knowledge. 



MLX1. 

Our opinion of others should be guided by an abstract 
love of rectitude, or rather by our regard for the source 
of that, and of all good ; but we should be cautious how 
we " judge His servants/' 



4bG 



MLX1I. 



" I JUDGE not myself."— No, St.. Paul, but your recol 
lections must have consoled and encouraged you — and 
what recollections ! It could be in no unconfiding spirit 
that you added, "He that judgeth me, is the Lord." 



JV1LXI1I. 

How many points of convenience may be answered by 
a man's making statements (which the various ways of 
understanding a thing may often oblige him to do) that no- 
body on earth can understand but himself; but all these 
will be worse than lost, if he makes improper ones ; when 
his private statements are only preparatory to his public 
exposition of them the first are for himself, the second 
for those to whom his account will be rendered. So it is 
in the business of this world, and so it will be in the much 
greater business of the next, where all our hieroglyphics 
will be fully understood. 



MLXIV. 

If we consider the objects of our worldly attachments 
according to the value they have in themselves, we may 
well exclaim with the Poet, 

" O curas hominum ! O quantum est in rebus inane !" 



457 



But if we regard them as being connected (as they all are 
more or less) with a future life, they acquire a real impor- 
tance, and this life is no longer the "jest" that Gay 
chose to call it. Every object, the employment of every 
passing moment in it> gives occasion for the exercise of that 
"patience and resignation," which Young justly calls, 

. " the pillars 

" Of human peace on earth ;" 

pillars whose bases are upon a rock, and whose summits 
are in the skies. 



MLXV, 

The mystery of our redemption we are totally unable to 
eonceive ; but the sacrifice made by Christ of himself surely 
calls for our highest veneration and gratitude. Were 
we to admit the possibility of error in our considering him 
as making a part of the Supreme Being, the Triune God, 
(a mystery far beyond our comprehension,) it would still 
be an error xm the right side ; for I feel, that the person 
who said, " I am the Resurrection and the Life," — •• My 
^Father is in me, and I in him," — " Before Abraham was, 
I am," — with other passages of like import — the person, 
who, to prove his possession of divine power, said to those 
who doubted it, " That ye may know that the Sou Gf 
Man hath power to forgive sins, (then saith he to the sick 
of the palsy) Arise, take up thy bed and walk," which was 
immediately done — and allthese events are so authenticated 
as to leave no reasonable doubt of their truth ; — to such a 

3 N 



458 



person, 1 feel that I can only prostrate myself in humble 
submission, adoration, praise, and gratitude. At the aw- 
ful end of his mission, consonant as it was with, and the 
consummation of all that preceded it, well might the skies 
be darkened, and the elements disturbed ; and well might 
the Centurion who witnessed these events, say, " Truly 
this man was the Son of God." 



MLXVI. 

I know not whether what 1 have said in the preceding 
Article, as well as in others on the same subject, will 
satisfy all my readers, as indeed there are some enthusiasts 
whom I do not expect, and hardly wish to satisfy. They 
I believe would not allow with me that reason and common 
sense, in concurrence with right feeling, and with all the 
assistance which they are capable of receiving, will be suf- 
ficient for the consideration of that subject, or of any 
thing connected with it. Any " new lights," however that 
may be pretended to, or even believed in by their asser- 
ters, cannot, I think, unless authorised by the faculties 
above mentioned, have a fair claim to our belief in the 
reality of their reception. Encouraged by these senti- 
ments, I should not hesitate to form and declare my creed, 
or my opinion of those already formed ; trusting in the 
divine mercy for the reception, and in the good sense of 
every reasonable member of the Church of England for 
the approbation of it. 



459 



MLXVII. 

The Deist's idea of the Supreme Being seems to be, 
that he is too great to be good : the Unitarian limits his 
goodness, as the Deist excludes it. Is there a reasonable 
humility in either ?* 



MLXV1I1. 

Our sympathy with others is in some degree obstructed 
by our regard for ourselves, and still more perhaps by a 
higher reference. This is expressed by " Every man for 
himself, and God for us all." We must not however 
forget our duty to our neighbour. 



MLX1X. 

Without altogether relinquishing the "post of honour," 
or that of utility, I think a man may sometimes be allowed 
to seek the post of quiet in a " private station." Therefore 
" Stet quicunque volet potens 
Aulse culmine lubrico" 

&c. (see JSo. 849) 

The "potens" should of course include all the ability 
required for it. After all, however, the " Metiri se 

* See the Appendix. 



460 



quemque suo modulo ac pede" is not always an easy task. 
How much both of moral and physical go to make up the 
whole of our agency. * 



MLXX. 

Among the millions of millions of sentient beings 
that perhaps inhabit the universe, every one preserves 
his individuality, and his power of communication, by 
prayer and praise with his Creator : it is so now, and 
why should it not be so, increase as that multitude may,f 
through all eternity ? This communication, with the 
practice that results from it, ought to satisfy each indi- 
vidual ; but alas, the range of his mind and the impulse 
of his feelings, if not of his passions, are too great for bis 
powers, and perhaps for his duties. 



MLXXI. 

Those who do not like detached thoughts, must either 
dislike thinking altogether, or be perfectly content with 
the thoughts that occur to them, or they must dislike 

* The reader is at liberty, if he pleases, to consider this as the confession 
and plea (for seeking the post of quiet) of the Author, for which however 
he claims a right to expect that the sentence of his fellow-creatures shall 
not be a severe one. How far this book will alone for his not mixing more 
with " the busy hum of men," must be left, partly to the judgment of the 
reader ; but how much of what has been " done, or left undone," must be 
determined upon by a far higher judge ! 

t By successive generations, and their removal to another state. 



461 

making any selections or extracts from the works of 
others ; for a common-place book must be formed in 
one of these ways ; and who has a right to be above 
common-place instruction ? 



J\lLXXtl. 

We are apt to judge of the rest of mankind, not so 
much by what we see in them, as by what we feel in our- 
selves. This perhaps may suit the " Epitome,"* well 
enough. 



MLXXIII. 

What is wanting in sincerity,! cannot be made up by 
mere courtesy. Let the great consider this. 



MLXXIV. 

Look back upon life, how triflingt it is.— Look for- 
ward, how important ! 



* " Every man is an Epitome of all mankind," says the proverb. 

t We may sometimes be insincere to others, to cover our want of 
sincerity to ourselves. 

$ Trifling in itself, but not in its consequences ; and the more trifling 
the more we have to look back upon, and the more we are disposed to do 
it. To this however there are exceptions. 



W2 



MLXXV. 

It is essential to the justice and goodness of Provi- 
dence, that all the ills of life shall be compensated ; and 
so they will, if we seek the proper resourses. All will be 
" repaid.'' 



MLXXVI. 

PART OF THE HISTORY OF AN AUTHOR, 

After much thinking and much doubting, A. Z. found 
that the surest ground to form an opinion upon, especially 
in deep subjects, is by the proper estimation of our own 
knowledge and our powers of reasoning, not expecting more 
satisfaction than we are capable of receiving, and being 
sensible that the best knowledge we can attain to, is that 
of ourselves. In the course of his meditations, he began 
to write down his own thoughts, for his own use. Im- 
pressed with the above convictions, he wrote in newspapers 
and magazines. Encouraged by this, he fancied that he 
could write for the public, and accordingly he wrote a 
book, which was commended by the Monthly Review and 
the Gentleman's Magazine, but having been too much 
familiarised by gratuitous distributions among his friends, 
and also containing some injudicious insertions, was read 



463 



by few only, most people caring little for much thought, and 
preferring easy decisions, and above all, amusement. 

Half dismayed and half encouraged by this, he wrote 
another, more varied, and rather more select, which 



MLXXV1L 

To what I have said in my first number, I think I 
might have added " verbum sapienti," and this may be no 
bad conclusion to my book, though the reader may say 
that nimia verba would have been a better description of its 
contents. But it must speak for itself. 



APPENDIX. 



Page 3. Note to No. 3. 

The promises and assurances of the Gospel are certainly meant to coun- 
teract and quiet, in some degree at least, these mental disturbances ; but 
still will not some of them remain 1 and does not " Help thou mine 
unbelief," express the state in which the mind is still left 1 The truth I 
believe is, that we are apt sometimes to mistake our endeavours for attain- 
ments, and to persuade ourselves that we are in that state of mind in which, 
agreeably to the sense of our duty, we wish to be ; but this I think is 
making error the purchase of peace ; for whose performance or attainment 
in " thought, word, and deed," can come up to the sense of his duty 1 
If it did, we should no longer have any confession of our unworthiness to 
make. 



Page 63. Note to " Understanding," in No. 168. 

I mean in the productions of human genius. 

Page 78. Note to " public mind," in No. 199. 

I mean in exciting a comparison between the good and the bad, in which 
the former should at least be predominant, to give a satisfactory result* 
This will, to reasonable minds, afford sufficient " concurrence." 

3 O 



466 



Page 79. Note to No. 202. 
Need I say, that professional as well as other applications admit of 
exceptions 1 

Page 80, Line 16, Note to " pictures" in No 203. 

Particularly a delightful Ascension of the Virgin, by Nicolo Poussin. 

Page 88. Note to " admiration/' end of No. 221. 

The subjects of it which Nature affords are open to the great and unso- 
phisticated, though simple and unlettered, mass of common people. How 
just is that dispensation ! 



Page 164. Note to No. 413, " downright immoralities." 

To these the reader may add, profanations. 

Page 234. Note to No. 572. 

The beauty and splendid appearance of the Butterfly tribe probably 
was what induced Linnaeus to give them the names of the Trojan and 
Grecian Heroes. 



Page 240. Note to No. 585. 

This is only meant to be directed against the offensive display of qualities 
as the preceding Number is of habits, which, under certain restrictioos, may 
very well be allowed to be exhibited by the fair sex. 

Page 355. Note to "increase and developement," end 
of No. 863. 

And they will have it. 



467 



Page 369. Note to 898. 

If this is true, all that is required is, that a proposition shall be fairly and 
clearly stated, for the considerstion of the reader. 



Page 374. Note to 912. 

Perhaps I may have been too severe in this censure of Waltzes ; but can 
the out-works of modesty be too strongly guarded 1 And are not appearances 
of consequence ? 

Page 410. Note to No. 986. 

In this fanciful vagary, I find on recollection, that I have attributed to 
Pope a line which is to be found in the " Night Thoughts" of the more 
serious and no less severe Young. 

Page 417. Note to No. 997. 

The " error," that I have charged Epicurus with was perhaps only one of 
many that might be expected from unenlightened Heathens. 

Page 424. Note to No. 1006. 

Whatever objections may be made to this Article, it is to be hoped that 
they will be compensated by what it ends with. 

Page 424. Note to No. 1007. 

To this encouragement of Polemics (tempered by charity) may perhaps be 
added, that without them the mind would lose the chance " ab hoste doceri.' 

Page 444, Note to " inferior degree" in No. 1035, 

/' Immo alia, et fortasse minora ;" any thing but " Egomet mi ignosco," 



468 



Page 445. Note to No. 1041 . 

I know not whether this piece of levity may be excused as being a 
ment to the first Article in this book. 



Page 448. Note to No. 1045. 

I think we may find a meeting of these opposite qualities ; and what ex- 
tremes will not meet in the human mind, where such opposite principles are 
to be found ? 



Page 452. Note to No. 1052. 

I know not whether the Note to this Article is a sufficient Apology for its 
whimsical string of Anglo-Grecisms, which perhaps may send a no better Gre- 
cian than I am, as often to his Lexicon as it did me. 



Page 453. Note to No. 1055. 

Wherever there is perception and intelligence, such objects as these must 
ensure admiration. May not we suppose that to be one object of their 
creation ? There is a sort of anachronism in the placing of this No. which 
should have been before No. 1027. 



Page 455. Note to No. 1059. 

Candour will go farther than lenity, at least the lenity of the law ; but 
candour may be carried, in practice at least, to a mischievous extreme ; it 
is only safe, when we leave all ultimate judgments to God. 



Page 456. Note to No. 1062. 

The utmost degree of self-knowledge seems, as I have said before, to be 
in self-distrust : Confidence is better placed in intention than in execution, for 
who can depend on himself for the unassisted power of that? 



469 



Page 450. Note to No. 1063. 

I mean by this, that in many cases a man may be supposed to understand 
himself better than he can make others understand him ; but the full 
understanding must be reserved for the rendering of the great and last 
account. 

Page 456. Note to No. 1066, 

This I think will be allowed, if reason and common sense may judge 
of probabilites, and if we are not required to give credit to assertions that we 
cannot absolutely disprove. 

Page 459. Note to No. 1067. 

A confirmed Deist may almost be said to be an Atheist in feeling, if not 
in opinion. — A Unitarian is at least half a Deist. — Deism is one of the 
aberrations of the human mind, which will not follow the only sure guide it 
can have. 

Page 459. Note to No. 1069. 

The passage in Seneca (Thgestes Tragaedia Act II, ad finem, is as follows : 

Stet quicunque volet potens 

Aulas culmine lubrico, 

Me dulcis saturet quies ; 

Obscuro positus loco 

Leni perfruar orio. 

ISTullis nota Quiritibus 

iEtas per taciturn fluat ; 

Sic cum transierint mei 

Nullo cum strepitu dies, 

Plebeius moriar senex. 

Uli mors gravis incubat, 

Qui notus nimis omnibus 

Ignotus moritur sibi. 
If this could be realised in practice, it would exemplify the 
" Incidit in Scyllam qui vult vitare Charybdim." 
It would be only fit for Prior's " Sauntering Jack and idle Joan." 



470 



Page 461. Note to No. 1093. 
" Life has no value as an end, but means." Night Thoughts. 
I have noticed the near connection (to say the least) between words and 
things, of which I think we may see daily examples in the "strife of 
tongues," and in the various kinds of oratory, discourse, and composition, 
and which this book also will probably exhibit. We may perhaps have 
a good deal of the mist of human science to wade through, to arrive at the 
sense of its imperfection, which however, our own reflections may impress us 
with. But the weight of a pretended science, though it may be buoyed up 
by assurance, and tricked out in words, will sometimes bear heavily upon 
those who have not real, or at least relative knowledge (enough for our 
own purposes, and those the most important) to support it. How often 
then will the confession of ignorance, even where still greater igno- 
rance is to be combated, be the safest resource ! But how seldom can we 
expect it, among so many pretenders, so many who " make themselves 
ready for battle," and who are, with some distinctions, " Et can tare pares . 
et respondere parati." Well is it, when the passions thus vent themselves in 
a war of words only. But my reader may have had enough of these : he 
will not however consider them all as Verba, " et pra^terea nihil." 



ERRATA. 



PAGE. 

1, line 12, for and which must, 
read which must. 

2, line 24, for or to allow, read 
and to allow. 

8, line 3, read but then in his 
heart he is a Christian ; his heart 
gives the Sceptic in his head the 
lie. — Line 19, of No. 15, for, 
fears and hopes, read hopes and 
fears. 

15, line 7, for may he, read might 
be. 

16, line 3, for limits, read links. 
18, line 10, for our own improve- 
ment, read, our improvement. 

22, line 2, for porportion, read pro- 
portion. 
38, line 13, for shelter and sanction 
of religion, read shelter, sanction, 
and correction of religion. 
43, line 12, for quarelling, read 

quarrelling . 
51, line 12, for chrysippo et cran- 
tore, read Chrysippo et Crantore. 
55, line 20, for prcegravatuna, read 

prcegravat una. 
61 , line 6, for, Syllam, read, Scyllam. 
77, line 23, for inherences of the 

world, read inherences of 

the world. 
80, for clxv, read ccin. 
83, line 16, for escamotent, read 
escamotant. 
133, line IS, for doubting, read 
doubling. — Line 18, for those, 
read these 
138, line 13, for Fortunam, read 

Naturam. 
140, line 45, for disolves, read dis- 
solves. 
152, line 14, after folly, read or 

pride, or any, §c. 
159, line 5, for t/ms, read this. 
165, line 17, a?id not : my printer 
has here made me say, what I 
neither meant, nor can think ; 



184 ; 

199 
201 
203 



205, 

234, 

242. 
250, 

274, 
286, 
289, 

295, 
296, 
326, 



329, 
354, 
365, 

406, 
413, 
418, 

433, 
426, 



436, 

440, 
442, 
448, 
431, 



for I know not what human con- 
duct can be divested of all earthly 
responsibility ; pray, reader,there- 
fore read if not, instead of and 
not. 

line 3, for but when it, read 
when it. 

line 5, for spia, read ipsa. 
line 4, for Loelius, read Ltzlius 
line 4, for page 135, read page 
132. — Line 9, for Lcclius, read 
LceUus 

line 21, for Nullum., read 
Nullam 

last line, for senible, read sensible 
line 19, for apears, read appears 
line 1, after it, dele the interro- 
gation point 

line 21, for affected, read effected 
line 6, for imitate, retkl irritate 
line 20, for positively too, read 
too positively 

line 9, for power, read powder 
line 1 , for nobility, read humility 
No. 797 should have been divi- 
ded into two, at follow. No. 7 97, 
a beginning- at A man, &c. 
line 3, for rzosei, read noset 
line 5, for opposite, read apposite 
line 4, for trembles to, read 
trembles too 

line, of the Note, for of, read if 
line 5, for performs, read forms 
line 7, of the Note, for stong, 
read strong 

line 12, for u'Tmf, read which 
line 20, the reference here (t) 
to the Note below, should have 
been at the end of No. 1002, 
lines 23 and 24, for to make do, 
read to make him do 
line 15, for gravises, read gravis es 
line 17, for sinon, read si non 
line 8, for pleasing, read pleasant 
line 11, for ages, read stages 



INDEX. 



ARTICLE 

Defence of this Book 1 

On the Attributes of the Supreme Being * . 2 

The Soul's Immortality. For Note to ditto see the Appendix 3 

Our Judgment of Characters ........ 4 

Young's Night Thoughts , . 5 

The Scriptures . . ...... 6 

Religion .. 7 

Moral Conduct 8 

Self-Correction 9 

The Knowledge of ourselves 10 

Prudence . . 11 

Future Prospects 12 

Writing .. .. 13 

Deism and Christianity ...... 14 

The Pursuit of Happiness *..... * 15 

The Fear of Death 16 

The Immortality of the Soul 17 

Human Virtues ...... 18 

Self-command . . 19 

Censure . . • 20 

The Maxim, " Festina lente" 21 

Matter and Manner 22 

Social Reception 23 



The Human Mind 



11 INDEX. 






ART. 


On our power of judging . . , . 


25 


Thought .. .... 


.... 26 


Ditto .. -...*. .... 


.... 27 


The Christian Character . . . . , ... 


.... 28 


The various kinds of Writings 


.... 29 


Self-sufficiency .. .... 


.... 30 


Generosity • . •• • 


31 


Pride, &c. . . 


32 


Human Conduct . . ... 


33 


Ditto .. 


34 


The Influence of Self-conceit 


35 


Self Satisfaction . . ... 


36 


What is connected with it ... 


37 


Providence . . • • • • 


38 


Happiness . . ♦....• . . . 


39 


Ditto .. 


40 


* Obstinacy in Opinion •• . 


41 


Good Nature and Selfishness 


42 


The Improvement of the Mind . . •> 


43 


Prudence . . 


44 


Mental Improvement 


45 


The Mind .. 


46 


Moral Reflections . . 


47 


Our judgment of others 


48 


The Works of Nature • • * 


49 


Human Conduct . . • . . 


50 


The Golden Age .. ...... 


51 


Words and Things ... 


52 


The Love of Fun • ... 


53 


Self and Social Enjoyment ...«..• ... 


54 


The Human Mind 


55 


Social Intercourse 


56 


Ditto .. 


57 


Opinion . . 


58 


Ditto 


59 


Human Knowledge 


».... 60 


Reason and Feeling ...... 


..... 61 



INDEX. 


Hi 




ART. 


On Pity .. 


62 


Moral Discussion 


63 


Moral and Religious Opinion #.. 


....« 64 


The Scriptures .. ... 


.... 65 


Ditto .. 


66 


The Sense of Ignorance ... 


67 


Human Ability . . ... 


68 


Human Opinions . . ...... ... 


69 


Pleasurable Enjoyment ... 


70 


The Character of a Gentleman . . . 


71 


The Human Character 


72 


Ditto ~ 


73 


The Divine Mercy 


..... 7"4 


Fame . . ...... ... 


75 


The Power of Reason 


76 


The Human Mind ...... ... 


77 


The Human Character ... 


78 


The Hopes of Futurity ... 


79 


Virtue and Vice . . ... 


8(? 


Human Reasoning ... 


81 


Space and Infinity ....... ... 


82 


Abstract Terms and Ideas ... 


83 


Self-satisfaction ... 


84 


Social Duties . . ...... ... 


85 


Thought and its Objects 


86 


Habit, &c. 


87" 


Human Merit . . ... 


SB 


Social Union . . ... 


89 


Ambition . . ...... ... 


90 


Faith .. 


91 


Madame de Stael's Work 


m 


Young's Night Thoughts 


93 


Human Merit . . 


...... 94> 


Self-government . . 


95 


Human Judgment 


.... 96 


Ditto .. 


97 


Ignorance . . ...... ... 


98 



iV 



INDEX. 



On Reason ... 


ART 

.... 99 


Ditto and religion ... 


100 


The " Aurea mediocritas" ... 


101 


Religion ... 


102 


Ditto . . 


103 


Christianity ... 

Self-knowledge . . ... 

The Human Character 


104 

10.5 

106 


Ditto .. 


107 


Ditto .. 


108 


Vice . . , 


109 


Human Greatness ... 


..;.. 110 


Self-love .. 


Ill 


Social Address . . 


112 


Discussion .. .... 


113 


Maxims . . \ , . . . . ... 


.... 114 


Social Intercourse . . . . 


115 


Self-enjoyment . . 

Listening to Advice ... 


116 

117 


The Abuse of Talent ...*.. 


.... 118 


Self-knowledge . , 


119 


The Use of Time 


120 


Mediocrity of Talent ...... ... 


121 


Building Castles in the Air .... 


122 


The Beauty of Nature 


123 


Refuge for Human Littleness . . 


124 


Social Ease - . 


125 


Social Feeling ... 


126 


Expectation, where to be placed . . • 
Imitation do. 


127 

128 


The Eye, how directed .... 


129 


Maxims . . .... 


130 


Action the Maturity of Thought 
TheWorld .. 


131 

.*.. 132 


Simplicity . . ...... 

Philosophical Flights .... 

Conversation 


.... 133 
. . . . 134 
.... 135 



INDEX. 


T 





ART. 


Feelings suppresteed . . 


136 


Judgment of Others and of Ourselves 


137 


Value of Public Opinion ...... , . . 


138 


Human Mind, defects of 


139 


Providential Agency . . 


140 


The World, its Nature and Effects . . 


141 


Divine Attributes .. 


142 


On the Observation of Nature 


143 


On Music . . 


144 


On Poetry .. 


145 


On the Sister Arts . . 


146 


Imitations of Nature ...... 


147 


Observation of ditto 


148 


On Futurity . . 


149 


On Doubt . . ...... 


150 


On Peace of Mind . . ........ 


151 


On the Use of Reason 


152 


On Habit 


153 


Assurance and Confidence P 


154 


Words and Things, Reciprocity of 


155 


World, what it affords 


156 


Knowledge, the Result of Trial . . 


157 


Expression of Thought 


158 


Life, its Alternations ...... 


159 


Human Resources and Opposites . . ■ .„ 


160 


Novelty, how produced , 


161 


Use of Medicine .. ...... ........ 


162 


Ditto of Maxims .. 


163 


Providential Agency 


164 


The Mind, how influenced ...... 


165 


Ditto 


166 


Use of the Passions 


167 


Talent, how produced. (For Note to ditto see the Appendix) 


168 


Thought, its use . . 


169 


Feeling governed by Instinct 


170 


Choice, how directed, «»..#• *••>••«• 


171 



VI INDEX. 



Hypocrisy, its Effects ........ 

Attention, directed by Habit 


ART, 
172 

173 


Habit, how begun 1 . . 

Talent, whence derived 


174 
175 


Thought, how to be matured .- ........ 

Social and Self-communion 


176 
177 


Things, how to be valued ...... 


178 


Use of Novels . . 


179 


Judgment of the World, its use . . 

Agency of Providence 

Use of a Common-place Book ...... 


180 
181 
182 


Judgment, difficulty of regulating . . ........ 

Expedients for ditto . . 

Social Feelings, how shewn and exercised 


183 
184 
185 


Conscience, how misled 


186 


Voltaire, Errors of his Reasoning . . 


187 


Cleanliness, value of 


188 


Wants, how to be supplied 

Fruits of Anticipation • 

Discontent, its Consolations 


189 
190 
191 


Angels, the Existence of 


192 


Commandments, Comment on some of them 


193 


Mr. Irving's Sermon 


194 


Information, how to be given ...... • 


195 


Social Abuses, Observations on . . . . , 


196 


Metaphysical Reasoning, how abused 

Opinions, how to be formed 

Power, its Effects and Foundation. (For Note to ditto, 


197 
198 


see the Appendix) .. • 

Knowledge, its Effects 


199 
200 


Ideas, how to form them 


201 


Lawyers and Physicians sceptical, and why (For Note to 
ditto see the Appendix) 

Hatfield and Burleigh Houses, Observations on. — (For Note 
to ditto see the Appendix) ..,.,. 

On Life and Time . . ........ 

On Man, bis Condition and Duties ........ 


202 

203 
204 
205 



INDEX. 


VII 




ART. 


On Pleasure . . ........ 


206 


Effusion of Gratitude ....... 


207 


Human Enjoyments and Feelings . . • 


208 


Ditto . . 


209 


Natural and Moral Beauty 


210 


Life, a Journey . .. ...... ........ 


211 


English Mode of Travelling • 


212 


Effects of Sound .. • 


213 


Want of Mental Action, its Effects 


214 


Contrast and Change 


215' 


Englishmen, their Virtues and Faults 


216 


One of their Follies . . 


217 


Bedfordshire and its Inhabitants . . 


218 


Mental Enjoyments and Capacities 


219 


Ditto . . 


220 


Ditto. — (For Note to this see the Appendix) 


221 


On various Animals ...... 


222 


Enjoyment of Natural Objects . . ...... 


223 


Ditto, how connected • ....... 


224 


Remedies, Observations on ...... 


225 


On Analogies . . ...... 


226 


On Attachments and Aversions . . 


227 


On Self-knowledge . . ...... ....... 


228 


On Natural Scenery, &c. 


229 


Ditto .. 


230 


Houses of Prayer '.. •••«.. 


231 


Justice, how done . . 


232 


Human Frailties .. ...... 


233 


On Confidence and Love ...... 


234 


Head and Heart, Union of 


235 


Virtues, when sincere 


236 


Gospel Precepts, always true .... ...... 


237 


Man, his Feelings and Powers .... 


238 


Nature, how little understood .... 


239 


Thought and Feeling 


240 


Opinions, how formed ...... ...... 


241 



viii INDEX. 






ART. 


Opinions on Mysteries ...... . . . . 


.... 242 


Good Sense, what . . 


. . . . 243 


Stupidity, ditto . . 


244 


Sickness called Silliness .... 


245 


-Mind, what subject to ...... .... 


246 


Ditto, what sensible of . . . » 


247 


Life and Feeling .... 


248 


Good Feelings, their direction .... 


.... 249 


Thought, its properties ...... 


250 


Feeling, indulgence of , 


251 


Unpleasant ones, how produced . . 


252 


Thoughts, how varied 


.... 253 


Seeds, how sown and increased .... * . . . 


254 


First Impulses . . ...... . . . . 


255 


Habit 


.... 356 


Hazards, exemptions from • . . . 


.... 257 


Characters, exposed to what ...... 


.... 258 


Human Ignorance .. .... 


.... 259 


Opinions, when most approved of by us 


260 


Good feelings, advantages of . . . . . . 


261 


Feelings, how various .... . . . , 


.... 262 


"Works, how to be valued 


263 


Learning and Common Sense . . . , . . 


.... 264 


Professional Men, what liable to . . 


.... 265 


Social Knowledge . . ...... 


.... 266 


Incertitude and Resignation . . , . , . . . 


.... 267 


Life a Journey, and whither .... 


.... 268 


Meditations on Trifles • . . . . 


.... 269 


Life's Sufferings, their compensation *.. . . 


.... 270 


Trials of Life 


.... 271 


Flight of the Soul 


272 


On Education . . ...... 


. . . . 273 


Ditto .. .... 


274 


Ditto . . 


.... 275 


Mind, when most active 


.... 276 


Social Communication ...... 


277 



INDEX. 


IX 




ART. 


Doing Good, Motives to ........ 


278 


On Numeration .. 


2? 9 


Romish and Protestant Churches, Difference between 


280 


Hindoo and Christian Religions compared 


281 


Horace, Quotation from 


.282 


On " Tempting God" 


283 


On Shakespeare . . 


284 


On Sincerity - . 


285 


Metaphj-sical Disquisitions 


286 


Human Conduct, how influenced . . 


287 


Human Pride, Lesson for ........ 


288 


Mr. Greville's Maxims . . ^ 


289 


" Verba et voces" .. 


290 


Judgments, how thrown away .... 


291 


Knowledge, how formed 


292 


Whim, when allowable 


293 


Model, one only perfect ...... 


29-1 


On Laughter .. 


295 


Happiness, Imperfection of 


296 


Human Knowledge, Want, and Expectations .... 


297 


Classes in Society, how characterised 


293 


Goodness of Heart, how shewn .... • • 


299 


" Many called, but few chosen." ........ 


300 


Serious Reflections 


301 


Ditto .. ...... 


302 


On Dissent, and its Motives . . . . « . • • • . 


303 


State, Dangers to, from what .... 


304 


Virtue, Motives to ...... 


305 


Judgments, how restrained . . 


306 


Moral Excellence, Sense of, from what 


307 


Agency of Providence, when felt ...<,.... 


303 


Feeling, Use and Defects of .... 


309 


Events and their Causes ...... 


310 


Thought, what it requires ........ 


311 


On Maxims . . 


312 


Ditto .. 


313 



X INDEX. 

ART. 

On the French Writers ♦ 314 

Ditto .. 315 

On Corneille, Alfieri, &c. . . 316 

Goodness of Character, Extent of 317 

Thoughts, Repetition of . 318 

Poetry and its Subjects ...... 319 

Reconcilements to Death ... 320 

Peace of Mind, Value of . . 321 

Human Power, how limited, . . 322 

On the Human Mind .... 3"23 

Self-absorption 324 

Excuse for Vanity ...... 325 

" Mind's Eye," how influenced • 326 

Life a Game at Back-gammon . . 327 

Providential Agency .... 328 

Duties of Man 329 

Matter and Spirit 330 

Doubt and Ignorance . . ^ 331 

Analogies, how formed .... 332 

Psalms, Extracts from .... 333 

Simplicity, Value of ........ 334 

Expression, Extent of 335 

Instance of it ,, , 336 

Ditto .. 337 

White Colour, why preferred . . 338 

Sentiments, how corrected and united 339 

Mind, its Desires and Hopes . . 340 

Christianity, its Effects . . 341 

Eashion, its Vagaries 342 

Human Estimations and Practice • 343 

Ditto of ourselves ...... 344 

Duties, Motives for 345 

True Self-interest 346 

Nature and Art 347 

Play-things of Life 348 

Life a Passage ...... 349 



INDEX. 


XI 




ART. 


Self-knowledge • •*...... 


350 


Man, what he sometimes is . . 


351 


Sympathy, how excited . . 


352 


Feeling, ditto » 


353 


Ditto .. 


354 


Passions, mutually counteracted 


355 


Ditto, the Stimulants of Life . . 


356 


Ditto, Action of ...... 


357 


Human Judgments, their Extent 


358 


"Want of Thought want of Feeling 


359 


Pride, Good and Evil of .... 


360 


Self-delusion . . „ 


361 


Reason, when listened to .... 


362 


Deism and Calvinism ->..... • 


363 


Mercy, how far to be hoped for . . 


364 


Sectarianism, Excess of .... 


365 


Opinions, how formed .... 


366 


Knowledge of Facts, Conclusions from 


367 


Judgments, how formed 


368 


Ditto .... 


369 


Ditto 


370 


Dramas, Shakespeare's and the Ancient 


371 


On the Virtues 


372 


Sense of Injuries ........ 


373 


Human Desires, how contrasted 


374 


Christianity, its Doctrines . . 


375 


Bible, Misinterpretation of . . ■ 


376 


Opinion, how determined .... 


377 


Feeling and Comprehension . . 


378 


Religious Systems, Comparison of 


379 


Man's Fears, how excited and allayed »• 


380 


Providential Agency ...... ........ 


381 


Religious Belief, Grounds of, and Obstacles to .... 


§82 


Ditto 


383 


Ditto .... 


384 


Ditto .... ........ ........ 


385 



Xll INDEX, 





ART. 


Religious Belief, Grounds of, and Obstacles to . » . . 


336 


Immortality of the Soul, Hope of 


387 


Ditto 


388 


Ditto .... 


389 


Thought, Capacity of ...... • « 


390 


On Infinity . . 


391 


Human Passions, how checked 


392 


Wounds of Life, how healed . . 


393 


Voice and Manner, sameness of . . , 


394 


Bowing the Head, when due . . 


395 


Good Sense, how shewn .... 


396 


Religious Feeling, how excited, &c. 


397 


On Time, &c. 


398 


Opinions and Feelings, Proof of their Truth .... 


399 


A Purgatory State considered . . ........ 


400 


Prejudice, Force of 


401 


Ill Habits, when incorrigible . . 


402 


Human Imperfections, Hopes of Mercy for .... 


403 


Autumnal Reflections 


401 


.Remarks on Thomson's Seasons 


405 


Mental Trouble how saved .... 


406 


Female Dangers 


407 


Connubial Fondness, how raised 


408 


Satire, Rules for ...... 


409 


Superstition, Reason the best Cure for 


410 


On the Scriptures 


411 


On the Psalms . . 


412 


On Musick and Songs. (For Note to do. see the Appendix) 


413 


On Sensibility and its Effects . . 


414 


Political Reflections c . 


415 


Church Service how to be read . . • 


416 


On the Works of Nature, &c .... *• 


417 


Political Speculations 


418 


Detached Thoughts, Use of 


419 


Self-love, Effects of, 


420 


Social Intercourse, ditto ...... 


421 



INDEX. 


Mil 




ART. 


.Men and their Thoughts how varied 


422 


Ditto 


423 


Thought, expression of 


424 


Ditto 


425 


Liberality, how shewn 


426 


Cunning, effects of . . » , . 


427 


Self, how known ...... 


428 


Knowledge of others, difficulty of 


429 


Humanity, how best shewn .... 


430 


On abstruse Reasoning ...»,. 


431 


Difficulty of reasoning closely . . 


432 


Good, in whom perfect .... 


433 


Honesty, Necessity of 


434 


Errors in Reasoning ...... 


. . 435 


Ditto in Practice 


436 


Social Intercourse, how excited . . 


437 


Men, Resemblance and Differences of 


438 


Influence of the latter 


439 


Works of Genius, how estimated . . 


440 


Professional Opinions to be respected 


441 


Manner, effects of ..,,.. 


442 


Works of Nature, admiration of . . 


443 


Love of Novelty . . 


444 


Self-examination, Effects of . . 


445 


Christians, their Advantages and Obligations ... 


446 


On the Psalms . . . . .. , . . 


447 


On mistaken Teuderness ...... 


448 


On the use of Talents 


449 


Dangers of a good Name .... 


450 


On judgment of Character .... 


451 


Reflections, how influenced . . 


452 


Characters, uniformity and variety of ...... 


453 


Creation, probable ends of .... 


454 


Feeling, Necessity of ....... 


455 


Hyperbole, Mischief of 


456 


On a Passage in Lucretius .... ...... 


457 



xi* iNdex. 

ART. 

Expression the clothing of Thought 458 

Vanity, its Use and Corrective . . 459 

Admonition, Rule for 460 

Rational Freedom ...... 461 

False Compassion the Ruin of its Object 462 

Scriptures, how to be judged of . . 463 

Life, its Ends and Duties . . 464 

Metaphysical Opinions 465 

How to be formed and moderated 466 

Ditto 467 

Ditto, how fleeting 468 

Self-knowledge, value of «. 469 

Suicide, reasoning on 470 

Ditto .... 471 

On Scepticism . . 472 

Ideas, why to be elevated . . 473 

Attention, the best Object of . . 474 

On the Psalms 475 

Ditto 476 

Migration of Birds 477 

Providential Agency 478 

Connubial Love and Education .. 479 

Vanity, Effects of 480 

On future Prospects 481 

On Creation .. 482 

On ditto ; a Thunder-storm . . 483 

On Prayer . . 48 4 

Vice and its Correctives 485 

Feeling, when sublimest .... • 486 

Mercy, Expansion of k 487 

Society, its Dangers and Preservatives 48^ 

The Mind's Action and Repose . . 489 

Characters, how opposed 490 

Human Life, its Objects .... 491 

Its Uncertainties, referred to what 492 

Its dependencies ••;«». 493 



INDEX. XV 

ART. 

Human Life, its Enjoyments . . . t 494 

Its duties . . «. 495 

Friendship, what it requires . . 496 

Reason, the best Guide in avoiding Errors 497 

On Cicero's Ideas of Friendship . . ....... 498 

On Philosophical Opinions .... 499 

On Cicero's Reasoning .... . . • 500 

" Animum regere,'' what it requires 501 

On an Anecdote of Pope . . . . 502 

Elevation, how best acquired . . 503 

Man, when levelled with the beasts 504 

On Cicero's reasoning ••• 505 

Human Opinions and Errors . . 506 

Life, its consolations .... 507 

Ditto 508 

On Cicero's reasoning 509 

Atheism and Scepticism ........ 510 

Vanity of Science a....... 511 

Human Follies . . 512 

Calvinism, its Source and Consequences 513 

Artificiality of Society '. . . 514 

Liberality, true and false 51 5 

Self, in what the highest Object 516 

Companions, how to be chosen . . 517 

On Cicero's Reasoning, &c. . . 518 

Ditto .. 519 

Vicissitudes of human Feelings 520 

The Hopes which they excite .... 521 

Reason for Thankfulness .... - 522 

The best Feelings, what ...... 523 

Language, its Powers and Defects • 524 

Human Nature, how constituted . . 525 

On the " Somnium Scipionis," &c. ........ 526 

Progressiveness of Thought .... 527 

On Cicero's Reasoning .... c . 528 

On Reforms . . ..,,.. 529 



XVI INDEX. 


. 




ART. 


On the Spirit of Opposition .... *■ . . 


530 


Political Opinions and Conduct . . 


531 


Value of Independence • .... 


532 


National Prospects .... 


.... 533 


Ditto .... 


..., 534 


Happiness, where seated .... .... 


535 


Employment of Time .... .... 


536 


Ditto ..... 


537 


Motives to Action .... 


538 


Ditto, how estimated ...... .... 


539 


Pride and Vanity how shewn . . .... 


540 


The highest Praise, what .... . . , . 


541 


Praise, wrong Pursuit of .... 


542 


Hope, when most valuable .... .... 


543 


Conduct, rules for .... 


544 


Human Differences, cause of .... .... 


545 


Mans highest Elevation, what .. 


546 


The Dead, how to be spoken of . . .... 


547 


Man, his Wants and Possessions 


548 


Attention when wrong directed . . 


549 


Pleasure, present Pursuit of . . 


550 


Englishmen, their Character and Failings 


551 


Self-knowledge, what .... 


552 


Old Age, its Effects, how avoided . . . . , 


555 


Opinion, how to be regulated . . 


554 


Public ditto, its force 


555 


Patriotism, when true 


556 


Stoicism, its Character 


557 


Enjoyments of Society, what the best 


558 


Ditto .... 


559 


Ditto .... 


560 


Prudence, its value .... 


561 


Human Mind, its Condition and Prospects 


562 


Keeping Accounts, importance of ... 


563 


Goodness, how shewn and acquired 


564 


Wives, lesson for .... 


565 



INDEX. 


xvu 




ART. 


Man, his advantages .... . . 


566 


His Enjoyments, Cares, and Duties 


567 


Enjoyment, how best obtained .... • . 


.... 563 


Philosophical Opinion .... 


.... 569 


Trifles, how to be valued ...... . . . . 


.... 570 


Accuracy, difference of 


571 


Animals, beauty of » 


572 


Indulgence, danger of • .... 


.... 573 


Patriotism, when true ...... • . . . 


.... 574 


National Interest, what . . . . 


575 


Resentment, when just 


.... 576 


Insolence, how to be treated .... 


577 


Life, its Uses and Duties 


- 578 


Ditto . . 


579 


On Cicero's Reasoning 


580 


On Pythagoras' s Doctrine ...... 


581 


On the Disposal of Riches 


582 


On Self-Knowledge 


.... 583 


Social Mirth .. ■> .... 


584 


Reason, how abused 


585 


On Idleness . . 


586 


On Religious Meditation 


587 


On Contentment . . . . 


588 


Character, how to be preserved . . .... 


589 


Vice and Folly, how checked . . .... 


590 


On Time .... 


591 


On the use of it . . 


592 


Free Will, how abused 


593 


On Loquacity . . 


594 


Man an Automaton ...... 


595 


On Utopian Systems 


596 


Characters, how judged 


597 


Self- Knowledge, use of ...... .... 


, ... 598 


On the Ocean .. ...... .... 


599 


On the Love of Scandal .... 


, . . * 600 


On fancied Illness 


601 


On Self-Indulgence . . . . 


.... 602 



xviii index. 



On Social Address 


603 


Resignation, its reward 


604 


On Prudence and Good Nature 


605 


Charity, extent of 


606 


Depravity, its consequence 


607 


Trifles, when valuable . . . . 


608 


Sense of Ignorance, value of • . ii 


609 


On Nature, and its Author .... 


610 


On mental Exhilaration .... 


611 


Use of Description .... 


612 


On true and false Religion .... 


613 


On ditto .... 


614 


On Vice and Virtue .... 


615 


On the use of Riches .... 


616 


On the Passions . . .... 


617 


Life, its Value . . .... 


618 


Novelty, Love of ., .... 


619 


Contemplation, its Object , .... 


620 


Deism and Unitarianism .... 


621 


Pride and Selfishness . . „ . 


.... 622 


On Self-indulgence < . . . . 


623 


Selfishness of Vanity «... 


624 


Pride, its Cure .. .... 


625 


Respect, how to obtain it .... 


626 


Patriotism, -when selfish , .... 


. . . . 627 


Suffering, when sympathised in . . .... 


.... 628 


Virtue and Vice, comparison of . . .... 


629 


Good and Evil, how balanced . . .... 


630 


Political Medium, where found . . .... 


631 


Novel of the " American Spy" criticised 


632 


Religious Feeling, what it requires .... 


.... 633 


Christianity, its effects .... 


.... 634 


Hopes of the dying Christian .... .... 


635 


Happiness of a future Life .... 


636 


Mind, its capabilities ...... .... 


637 


Utility, its advantages 


638 



INDEX. 


XIX 




ART. 


Theoretical Reformists, their Error .... 


639 


The Epicureans, ditto of ... . .... 


. . . . 640 


Young and Cicero on Death .... .... 


641 


Patience, when wanted 


. . . . 642 


Resignation, its proper end .... . . . . 


. . . . 643 


Human Obligations .... 


644 


Object of Prayer 


645 


On Calvinism .. -. .... 


.. . 646 


On the Divine Attributes .... 


64r 


Charity, true liberality .... 


. . . . 648 


Religion, what it includes „ .... 


649 


Merit, how perfected .... 


650 


Maxims, what they embrace .... .... 


651 


Conviviality, exposed to what .... .... 


.... 652 


State of Grace, difficuky to judge of 


.... 653 


Seria ludo . . .... 


, . . . 654 


Levity, a refuge . . ...... 


655 


The Mind, its powers and weakness .... 


656 


Its Errors . . ...... .... 


657 


Ditto, resource against , . . . 


658 


Mercy, our want of .... 


659 


Competency, best use of .... 


660 


Hope of mercy, how founded . . 


661 


On Cicero and Horace .... 


.... 662 


Attachment to Home .... 


663 


Religious belief, reason for .... .... 


664 


Relation, degrees of ...... . . . . 


665 


Truth and Importance of Christianity 


666 


Human Powers, how known ....... .... 


667 


Thought and Action ...... 


668 


Pain of dying, how lessened — A Storm 


.... 669 


Efficacy of Prayer * 


. . . , 670 


Flattery of ourselves and others 


671 


Journals, Accounts, &c. their uses . . . . 


672 


Self-conceit, how shewn 


673 


Futurity, its uncertainty ...... . . , . 


674 



XX INDEX, 



On giving information ...... 


675 


Religions, how judged of t 


676 


On Horace . . ........ 


677 


Human Feelings, how varied . . 


678 


" Nil admirari" meaning of .... • 


679 


Moral impropriation 


680 


Singularity, right to 


681 


Approbation, when worth having 


682 


Things, how examined 


683 


Retrospects and Prospects 


684 


History, why interesting j 


685 


Ideas and Words, their Importance 


686 


Human Nature, how varied and adapted 


687 


Ideas and Words, connection and display of 


688 


Ideas and Opinions, variety and choice of 


689 


Chance, a Nonentity 


690 


" Oddity," consciousness of .... < 


691 


Disposal of property our right to 


692 


Rule for Argument ...... 


693 


Christianity and Deism compared 


694 


Human Nature, how to be judged and dealt with .... 


695 


Study, Use of . . • . 


696 


" Vox populi" not always ' f Vox Dei" . , 


697 


Faults necessary 


698 


Human Estimations .... 


699 


On writing our Thoughts .... 


700 


Want of Feeling, how shewn .. 


701 


Fortitude, what the best .... 


702 


Future Expectations 


703 


Motives to Action. Anecdote of Turenne 


704 


Knowledge, use of 


703 


Desire of Revenge, how checked . . 


706 


Human judgments, how directed 


707 


Theory and Practice, difference between . • 


703 


Religious Belief, Reason for . . 


709 


Obstacles to it . . ...... 


710 



INDEX. XXI 

ART. 

Use and End of Writing .... ■ . . 711 

On the Scriptures . 712 

On Religious Belief ........ 713 

On Religious Feeling .... 714 

'' Omnia Yanitas" .... ........ 715 

" Otium cum dignitate," preparation for 716 

Servility, why tolerated .... 7lf 

Respect, due to what .... 718 

Ditto, how to be paid .... 719 

Policy, what the best .... ........ 720 

Religious Feelings, what their best Excitement .... 721 

Love, the best Principle cf Union 722 

Hope, what it suggests 723 

On Shaking Hands .... ........ 724 

Want of Thought, sometimes useful ........ 725 

Curiosity, how restless - . . . 726 

Faith and good Works, how allied •••••• 727 

Presumption, bow shewn . . 728 

Man, his Qualities . . . . 729 

Reflection, Use of . . ........ 730 

Self-knowledge, Difficulty of, and Substitute for . . 731 

Error, Source of .... 732 

Candour, Reason of .... 733 

On Prayer .. .... ........ 734 

On religious Belief 735 

On a Distich of Voltaire's . . , 736 

On Self-flattery 737 

Selfishness allowed and enjoined 738 

Advance in Life, its Effects 739 

On the Human Understanding ........ 740 

Faith and good Works, Alliance between ........ 741 

Enthusiasm, when suspected . . ........ 742 

Internal Feelings .... ...«-.... 743 

Religion, its Effects .... 744 

Man's Improvement and Expectations ........ 745 

Future Prospects .... 746 



XXU INDEX. 






ART. 


Passages in the Night Thoughts 


747 


Natural Philosophy • .... 


743 


Ease of Mind, Want of .... 


749 


Self-knowledge, Extent of . . 


750 


Feelings, how mixed 


751 


Regrets, how alleviated. Waste of Time 


752 


Responsibility, how judged of ... . 


753 


Attainment and Expectation .... 


754 


On Popery . . 


755 


On the Divine Attributes 


756 


Human Qualities ...... 


757 


On deep Thinking 


758 


Old Age, its Enjoyments . . ' 


759 


Human Enjoyments and Prospects 


760 


Human Opinions, Variety of . . 


761 


Reason, Feeling, and Free-will . . 


762 


Events, Necessity of 


763 


Feeling, its Alloys and Expectations 


764 


Christianity, how to be judged of 


765 


On the Observation of Nature 


766 


Human Nature partially described 


767 


Virtues, how appreciated . . 


763 


Divine Perfection, how judged of 


769 


Mental Transitions .... « 


770 


Partiality of Human Views . . 


771 


Thoughts, Estimation of . . 


77% 


Actions, on what dependant . . 


773 


On St. Paul's Epistles . . 


774 


Desultoriness and Connection, Marks of what .... 


775 


Importance, how estimated .... 


7/6 


On Infinity ... 


777 


Clouds and Sunshine of Life . . 


778 


Christianity, .its Excellency . . ....... 


779 


Man's Actions, how judged of 


780 


Praise or Censure, what implied in them 


731 


Human Powers . , . , 


78? 



index. xxiii 

ART. 

Divine Justice, how shewn .... 783 

Feeling and Expression .... 784 

Mediocrity, when tolerable .... 785 

Human Feelings .... 786 

Ditto . . .... 787 

Hope, its Views .... 788 

Candour, Reason for .... ........ 789 

Natural Philosophy, its Source . 790 

Sorrows and Consolations, ditto 791 

Social Securities . . .... 792 

Existence, its first Cause .... 793 

Important Truths, how considered ........ 794 

Power of Impulse .... 795 

Providential Agency, Necessity of 796 

Human Excesses .... (a) 797 

Exertion, Necessity of .... (b) 797 

Human Judgments, limits of 798 

Human Feelings, their Importance ........ 799 

Divine Mercy, exercise and hope of .,,..«,.. 800 

Scepticism, its Character . . ........ 801 

Almighty Power . , 802 

Human Judgments, Extent of 803 

Human Prospects 804 

Human Intellect, how bounded 805 

Opinion, Regulation of . . •»...... 806 

On the " Credo, quia impossibile est" , 807 

Pursuit of Knowledge .... 808 

On Steadiness of Character .. 809 

Difference of Opinion, Cause of 810 

Self-satisfacti.on, how limited 811 

Personal Courage, and Want of it 812 

Immortality of the Soul considered 813 

Divine Infinity 814 

Do. Human Corruptions .... 815 

Human Knowledge and Responsibility ........ 816 

Mental Enjoyment, what the greatest 817 



XXJV INDEX 





iRT. 


On Young's Night Thoughts . . .... 


.... 818 


On Ditto . .... 


. . . . 819 


Reconcilement of Quarrels, difficulty of .... 


820 


Useful Life, what .... 


821 


Epitaphs compared ...... 


822 


On Inductive Reasoning .... 


823 


Strength of Mind .... 


824 


Future Existence, how prepared for • . . • , 


825 


Ditto, Prospect of ...... 


826 


Pride and Humility 


827 


Imperfect Belief, Remedy for . . 


828 


Ditto .... 


829 


Worldly Happiness ...... .... 


830 


Government, Difficulty of .... 


831 


Mental Disquietudes .... •• ». . 


832 


On Human Comforts 


833 


Domestic Felicity .... 


834 


Oxi Reasoning and Conviction •. - . . 


835 


On Religious Belief .... 


83fr 


On ditto .... 


837 


Enjoyments of Life, Management of 


838 


Intellect, Level of .... 


839 


Elevation of Mind .... 


.... 840 


On Enthusiasm ' . . .... 


> . . . 841 


Religion, Necessity of .... .... 


842 


Mental Powers, how and why limited 


843 


Hope and Expectation «■ .... 


844 


Self-knowledge ..-<... .... 


845 


On Social Intercourse • . • • 


846 


On Life ..... 


847 


Expression of Thought . . . * . 


. .. 848 


On Seneca's " stet quicunque volet," &c. 


849 


Living in the World, its Effects 


850 


World, Physical and Moral. . 


851 


Ditto, a Turn-coat • . 


852 


Gloomy Foreboding* .. i 


853 



INDEX. XXV 

a:::. 

On Novels 85 1 

World, how mixed 855 

Imagination, Importance of 856 

On Representations .... 857 

" Honesty the best Policy." How far 1 858 

" Human inn est errare" et discere .* 859 

On Ninon de 1' Enclos . . 860 

Error, not to be our Guide .... 861 

Social Classification . . 862 

Human and Animal Faculties 863 

On the Scriptures 864 

The despairing Shepherd . . 865 

The Passions and Reason . . ......... 866 

Vanity, how concealed and betrayed 867 

Social Love, how necessary ........ 868 

Openness, Reasons for . . 869 

Desultory Thoughts, their use 870 

Italics, ditto . . ... 871 

Inconsistencies amusing 872 

Error and Delusion .... 873 

Sunday Observations ..... 874 

Communication, use of .... 875 

Roads to Error, perhaps to Ruin . . .' 876 

Sense of Ignorance, our Fear of it 877 

Ditto, use of 878 

Connection of Thoughts 879 

Men and Animals compared 880 

Reformed and Romish Churches compared , .. 881 

Ditto .. 882 

On polished Life 883 

On Novels . . 884 

Stanza of Mrs. Greville's Ode to Indifference 885 

Human Pursuits estimated 886 

Self-knowledge how perverted 887 

Passions and their Impulses, danger of 888 

Resentment, caution against , 889 



XXVI INDEX. 





ART. 


Self-correction 


890 


Manner, importance of . . 


891 


Pardon, when denied by Man .... 


892 


Candour, help to . s . . . . r 


893 


Opinion, Liberty of .... 


894 


(Omitted) 


895 


Human Judgments, defects of . . 


896 


Truth ajid Falsehood .... 


897 


Writing, use of. (For Note see the Appendix) .... 


898 


Maxims, how to be qualified 


899 


Another World, how proved 


900 


Gospel, Truth and Value of 


901 


Christian Doctrines, how to be supported .... 


902 


Exertion and Candour recommended 


903 


Human Life, its Condition and Interests 


904 


Writing, use of .... 


905 


Novelty, Substitute for . . 


906 


Thoughts, what they resemble and require 


907 


Memory, Judgment, and Imagination ....... % 


908 


Imagination and Reason . . ........ 


909 


Brackets, &c. use of .... • 


910 


Mind, how excited 


911 


Waltzes, censure of. (For Note see the Appendix) . . 


912 


Satire, how to be used .... 


913 


Talents, ditto ...... 


914 


Home, why valued .... 


915 


Moderation recommended . . 


916 


Comforts and Disappointments 


917 


Knowledge of Truth, how gained 


918 


Human Characters, sameness of 


919 


Future Hopes • 


920 


Human Characters, diversities of 


921 


Courses of Life, ditto .... ........ 


922 


" Gaieties and Gravities," Remarks on 


923 


Ditto .. 


924 


On Sensibility » . 


925 



INDEX. xxvii 

ART. 

Poetry, Painting, and Music, their best Effects .* 926 

Feelings, and their Expression 927 

Man, his State, Duties, and Prospects 928 

Conclusions, how to be formed 929 

On serious Reasoning . . 930 

On hasty Judgments . . ...„*... 931 

Remark on " Gaieties and Gravities," . . . 932 

Ditto on Cicero's Writings . . „ 933 

Self-Love and Social .... 954 

On Materialism 935 

Connection of Words and Things ........ 956 

Intellectual and Material Divisibility 937 

Space, Time, &c. 938 

Reason and Imagination . . 939 

Social Address .. ........ 940 

On unscriptural Opinions . . ........ 941 

On Hunting, Shooting, and Fishing ........ 942 

Tttuioiugj-, its. "F.ffiw . . 943 

Garrulity and Pride compared 944 

Evils, how to be eradicated . . 945 

Existence and End of Evil . . ........ 946 

On Whiskers ...... . .. 917 

Election Dinners .... 948 

" Videre meliora et probare" 949 

Moral Reflections, what they require '7.» 950 

False Judgments, causes of . . ......... 951 

Pure Love of Mischief, how evinced 952 

Writing, rule for . . 953 

Verses at St. Leonard's Hill, and Reflections on them 954 

Providential Agency . . « 955 

Candour and Judgment, how shewn 956 

Liberality and Honesty, ditto ........ 957 

Discussion, how best carried on 958 

Incredulity, source of . . . . . « 959 

Hypocrisy, (self- betrayed) . . 960 

3 udgment, how misled . » . . 961 



XXV1U INDEX. 

ART. 

Posthumous reward .... 962 

Human Solicitudes 963 

Ignorance, when an Excuse for Doubt 964 

Procrastination, cure for . . 965 

Assurance and Impudence . . ........ 966 

Moral Comparisons .. 967 

Thoughts recollected and re-connected 968 

Proofs and Confirmations . . ........ 969 

Narrowness of Scepticism . . 970 

Doubt, Causes and Effects of . . 971 

Human Errors, their Source . . 972 

Belief not bounded by Knowledge 973 

A clear Head, what ? . . 974 

Ditto, how accompanied . . 979 

Description, Errors, and Corrective of • 976 

Advice to Antiquarians . . 977 

Human Reasonings and Improvements 978 

Modern Sinking and Flaying iru;. -..-^.l ....... . 979 

Thoughts, how perverted and recalled 980 

Old Age, it Compensations • 981 

Human Enjoyments, Source and Security of .... 982 

Mental Correctives .... 983 

Pride, owing to what .... • 984 

Male and Female Characters compared 985 

Dilucular Suggestions. (For Note see the Appendix) 986 

Mental Superiority, to what owing ........ 987 

Final Causes, reasoning on .... 988 

Common Sense, why overlooked 989 

Pride, its Compatibility .... 990 

Human and divine Knowledge and Judgment .... 991 

Human Errors .. 992 

Human Crimes . . • 993 

Vices, their Danger and Corrective 994 

Power of Conscience .... ........ 995 

Domestic Felicity rarely enjoyed by Princes .... 996 

Epicurism, Remarks on, (For Note see the Appendix.) 997 



1 


NDEX. 


XXIX 






ART. 


Ditto, as exemplified in a Song .»»».*.. 


998 


" Gaieties and Gravities" 


4.. 


999 


Feeling, necessity of 





1000 


Worldly Pride 


«•«. ..*....• 


1001 


A Summer Day's Feeling 


.... 


1002 


Anti-material Sally 


>*>• ......1. 


1003 


On Social Intercourse 


.... 


1004 


Power of Music, Harmony, &c. ........ 


1005 


Abstruse Reasoning, Difficulty of. (For Note see the 








1006 


Theological Discussion, Use 


of. (For Note see the 








1007 


On Natural History 


.. ■•••••«. 


1008 


Pagan Mythology 





1009 


Mental Exercise 


.. ..e*««.« 


•1010 


Mental Satisfaction 


•• •«•••«•« 


1011 


On Hope, &c. 


p.. ........ 


1012 


"" Gaieties and Gravities" 


. . 


1013 


On " assumed Virtues" 


.» •••••••• 


1014. 


" Gaities and Gravities" 


• • ...«••*• 


1015 


Words and Ideas . . 




1016 


Pride, Effects of . . 




1017 
1018 


Religious Consolations 


.. ......a. 


Motives for Thankfulness 


• • ........ 


1019 


Writings, various kinds of 


•• ..«••••* 


1020 


Incolastic Observations 


• • • » ........ 


1021 


On verbal Criticisms 


•••• •*•••••• 


1022 


Hint to Craniologists 


•••• . . . . . . f • 


1023 


On Vocal Music 


• • • • ........ 


1024 


On Ditto 




1025 


On Social Confidence, &c. 


.. 


1026 


Autumnal Effusion 


. . 


1027 


Astronomical ditto 


. . 


1028 


Reason, Powers and Defects 


of . 


1029 


" Gaities and Gravities" 


. . >•...... 


1030 


On Philosophy, &c. 


*• ■••*#••• 


1031 



XXX INDEX. 

ART. 

Involuntary Confessions of Ignorance ........ 1032 

Proposal to Calvinists . . ........ 1033 

Social Sympathy, how produced] 1034 

Human Passions, how exhibited and checked. (For 

Note see the Appendix) . . . , 1035 

Human Vanity, Effects of . » . . , J 036 

Censure and Calumny, ditto .......... 1037 

" Sic vos non vobis," . . 1038 

" Verbum sentienti," .. 1039 

Self-flattery, Danger of . . 1040 

Address to Readers. (For Note see the Appendix) 1041 

Winter Enjoyments, . . 1042 

On Horace, &c. .. 1043 

Moral Problem, 1044 

Variety of Thought, use of. (For Note see the 

Appendix) .. ........ 1045 

" Nature of Things," how to be understood . . 1046 

Iiiiuaivo of t^«» " «-".^wvUioe scribendi," - 1047" 

Tenacity of our Follies and Vanities . * 1048 

On Horace 1049 

Insufficiency of Reason, in religious Belief, . . 1050 

Mental Powers, what they require, 1051 

Anglo-Grecian Vagary. (For Note see the Appendix) 1052 

HinttoDeists -,...... 1053 

Ditto to Sceptics 1054 

Astronomical Speculation. (For Note see the 

Appendix) 1055 

Human Regards, insufficiency of 1056 

Attention, where due • • • • • 1057 

" Ccelebs" a married Man 1058 

Candour, how limited. (For Note see the Appendix) 1059 

Social Intercourse, Rules for 1060 

Judgment of Others, Ditto 1061 

Judgment of Ourselves, example of. (For Note see 

the Appendix) 1° 62 

Accounts, how to be rendered, (For Note see the 

Appendix) 106S 



INDEX. XXXi. 

ART. 

Vanity and Importance of worldly Attainments .. 1064 

Reflections on Christianity 1065 

On Enthusiasm and new Lights 1066 

On Deism and Unitarianism. (For Note see the 

Appendix) , 1067 

Social and Self- Regard . . .* 1068 

Excuse for Retirement .. 1069 

On universal Population . . 1070 

On detached Thoughts . . 1071 

Judgment of others, how influenced 1072 

Sincerity and Courtesy ... « 1073 

On Life. (For Note see the Appendix) 1074 

On Ditto 1075 

Part of the History of an Author 1076 

Verbum sapienti 1077 



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